The Potter Twins
by Alfabrena
Summary: A twist on the story we all know and love, re-do: Harry has a twin sister, Arrow Potter. They'll face all the challenges of their new lessons in the magical world of Hogwarts along with the difficulties of getting used to the idea of being marked twins.
1. The Twins Who Lived!

A lot of this story is going to seem pretty dega vuish. thats because i took a lot of it almost word for word from the books.

**I OWN NOTHING!!!!** all creadit goes to the brilliant and amazingly spectacular J.K. Rowling. Enjoy and review please!!:) again:**I OWN NOTHING** (except copies of the books:D) remember padfoot loves you

* * *

In number four Privet Drive Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were very proud indeed to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious for they just didn't hold with such things.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blond and had an unusually long neck which was about twice as long as usual. This was very useful as she spent so much of her time craning it over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy in the world.

In number twenty-two Moonstone Lane, on the other side of the city were the Mecnares. The Mecnares were almost exactly opposite the Dursleys. Mr. Mecnare was the director of the firm Sting Automotive, which you hopefully noticed, builds cars. They were opposite the Dursleys in that they loved to have fun. The Mecnares had a very small daughter named Rachelle, who was to them, the most beautiful gift they could ever ask for. Mr. Mecnare was a tall man with a horse like smiling face while Mrs. Mecnare was a caring, short, plump woman with silvering hair.

Both families had everything they wanted, possibly even more. But the Dursleys also had a deep secret. And they wanted to keep it that way for it was their greatest fear that someone might discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's younger sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister. This was because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as anyone could be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son and daughter, too. But they had never seen them. These children were another reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with children like that.

When the Dursleys and the Mecnares awoke on the dull, gray Tuesday our story begins, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. Neither of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past their window.

Twenty miles away Mr. Mecnare was trying to tie his brightly colored tie, and failing miserably, and Mrs. Mecnare struggled to put a squirming Rachelle into her high chair. Neither of them noticed a beautiful snowy owl pass their window.

At half past seven, Mr. Mecnare picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Mecnare on the cheek then kissed Rachelle on the top of her head. "Have fun!" Mrs. Mecnare called after him as he left the kitchen. He got into his car and backed out of number twenty-two's drive. On the corner was the first sign of something strange- a cat reading a map. Mr. Mecnare didn't realize what he had seen for a moment and jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Moonstone Lane, but there wasn't a map anywhere. What was he thinking? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Mecnare shook his head and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Mecnare drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Moonstone Lane- no, it was _looking _at the sign; cats did not and could not read maps _or _street signs. Mr. Mecnare shook his head again and pushed the cat out of his mind. As he drove down the road toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of Stingray cars he was hoping to get that day so that he could finally afford that vacation he had promised his wife years ago. He had no idea that at half past eight, on the other side of the town Mr. Dursley would have the same in counter with the tabby cat as he did.

On the edge of town, drills were driven out of Mr. Dursley's mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people around. People in clocks. Mr. Dursley couldn't stand people that dressed in weird cloths- the get ups you see on young people! He supposed it was some stupid new fashion thing. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing close by. They were whispering excitedly to one another. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a few of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older then he was, and he was wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! Right then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some stupid stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something… yes that had to be it. The traffic started moving once more and a few minutes later Mr. Dursley pulled into the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. _He _didn't see all the owls swooping around in broad daylight, though everyone on the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl speed and swooped overhead. Most of them had never seen one at night. Mr. Dursley, however, had had a perfectly owl free morning. He yelled at five different people, made several important phone calls, and yelled a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunch, when he thought he would stretch his legs and walk to the bakery across the street and buy himself a bun.

He'd completely forgotten about the people in clocks until he passed a group of them next to the backer's. He eyed them angrily as he passed them. He didn't know why, but these people made him feel uneasy. This bunch was whispering excitedly to each other also and he couldn't see a single collecting tin among them. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large bun in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"- yes, their twin children, Harry and Arrow-"

Mr. Dursley stopped dead in mid step. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as though he wanted to say something to them, but then he thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to bother him, seized his phone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he thought better of it and set down the receiver. He stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had twin son and daughters named Harry and Arrow. In fact he wasn't sure if his niece and nephew _were _called Arrow and Harry. He'd never seen the twins. They might have been Harvey and Alice, or Harold and Annie. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got very upset at the slightest mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if _he'd _had a sister like that…but all the same, those people in cloaks…

Mr. Mecnare was having no such troubles. At four o'clock he got to his drive at twenty- two and found the tabby cat sitting on the fence staring at the house. He frowned and went into the house and asked Mrs. Mecnare about the cat. She said it had been there for a while and that no matter what she did it wouldn't leave or come up to lap some milk she had put out to tempt it, but when they looked out the window the cat had vanished.

Mr. Dursley had a hard time concentrating on drills the rest of the afternoon. In fact he was so worried when he left the building at five o'clock that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell over. It took a couple of seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem upset in the slightest about being almost knocked to the ground. Actually his face split into a very wide smile and said in a vary squeaky voice that made passerby stare, "Don't be sorry sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this very happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had just been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because the Dursleys didn't approve of imagination.

When he pulled into the drive for number four, the first thing he saw was the tabby cat he'd seen that morning. It was now sitting on the garden wall. He was sure it was the same one for it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move but it did give him a vary stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed for the night, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls usually hunt at night and hardly ever seen in the daytime, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster let himself smile. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well Ted," said the weather man, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting differently lately. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in telling me that instead of the rain that I promised yesterday, they've had a down pour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise you a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley froze in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying in the daytime? Mysterious people in cloaks every where? And a whisper, a whisper, about the Potters…

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good he'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er- Petunia, dear-you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he expected, Mrs. Dursley looked both shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls…shooting stars…and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought…maybe…it was something to do with… you know…_her _crowed."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided not to. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "There son and daughter- they'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't they?"

"I suppose so," answered Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What are their names again? Harold and Annie, wasn't it?"

"Harry and Arrow. Nasty, common names if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it was waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of- well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters _were _involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew quite well what him and Petunia thought about them and their kind…He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on- he yawned and turned over- it couldn't affect _them_…

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting still as a statue, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as twitch when a door slammed shut, or when two owls swooped overhead. Actually, it wasn't until nearly midnight that the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching. He appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat twitched its tail and narrowed its eyes.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough for him to easily tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and seamed to sparkle behind half-moon spectacles that sat on a very long nose that looked as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots were unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. Though he did seem to realize he was being watched, for he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It looked like a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a slight pop. He clicked it again and the next lamp blinked into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the street were two tiny dots in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat still watching him. If anyone looked out of their window right now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the street. Dumbledore put the Put-Outer back into his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it was gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather sever-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the same shape as the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, wore a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn back into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff to if you'd been sitting on garden walls all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have past a dozen or so feasts and parties on my way hear."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for these past eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason for us to lose or heads. People are just being downright careless, out in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle cloths, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to say something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine day it would be if, on the same day that You-Know-Who seems to have finally disappeared, the Muggles found about us all. I suppose he really _has _gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you like a lemon drop?"

"A _what_?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was a time for a lemon drop. "As I said, even if You-Know-Who _has _gone-"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense- for eleven years I've been trying to get people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_." Professor McGonagall flinched at the name, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, didn't seem to notice. "It gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened to say Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding both exasperated and admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows that you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too- well- _noble _to use them."

"I'm lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she licked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing compared to the _rumors _that are flying around. Do you know what everyone is saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?'

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been sitting on cold, hard walls all day. For neither as a cat or as a woman had she fixed such a piercing star on Dumbledore as she did now. It was plain that what "everyone" was saying, she was _not _going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and didn't answer.

"What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow, looking for the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are- are- that they're- _dead_."

Dumbledore sighed slightly and bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it … I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore patted her lightly on the shoulder. "I know … I know…" he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she continued. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters children, Harry and Arrow. But- he couldn't. He couldn't kill them. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry and Arrow Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone. And that his creature has just-disappeared."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's- it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy and girl? Or the creature just evaporating into thin air. It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did the twins survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very strange watch. It had twelve hands, and instead of numbers it had little planets moving around its edge. It must've made sense to Dumbledore, though, for he put it back into his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I would be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why _you're here of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle, and-."

"You don't mean- you _can't _mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find a couple more people more unlike us. And they've got this son," she gabbed her finger at number four. "I say him kicking his mother all the way down the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

Dumbledore was about to say something, but Professor McGonagall wasn't done.

"Now those other people, they are good people. Why are you separating them? Why not put them together with those other people? They're twins! "

"It's the best thing for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to Harry when he's older. I'm separating them for their own safety just in case others come searching for them. They are more powerful together. I've written both families a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all of this in a letter? These people will never understand them! They'll be famous- legends- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry and Arrow Potter day in the future- there'll be books written on them- every child in our world will know their names!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking firmly over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any child's head. Famous before they can walk and talk! Famous for something they won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off they'll be, growing up away from it all until they're ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here, Dumbledore?" She suddenly eyed his cloak as though she thought he might be hiding Harry and Arrow underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it- _wise_- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he isn't careless. He does tend to- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight. As the sound grew to a roar they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the sky and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing compared to the man riding it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at leastfive times as wide. He simply looked too big to be allowed, and so _wild- _long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding two separate bundles of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems I hope?"

"No, sir- house was all most completely destroyed, but I got'em out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flying over Bristol, but," the giant laughed slightly, "she's to be a little hand full when she grows a bit older, didn't fall asleep until a little bit ago, she wouldn't stop wiggling."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the two bundles in Hagrid's arms. Inside, just visible in one, was a baby boy fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. In the other bundle was a baby girl in a restless sleep. When the girl turned her head to the left they could just see a white five pointed star shaped scar on her neck.

"Is that where-?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "They will have those scars forever."

"Couldn't you do something about them, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well- give the boy here, Hagrid- we'd mine as well get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house, leaving Arrow in Hagrid's arms.

Big tears leaked out of the giant's eyes and ran down his face into his tangled beard, as Dumbledore laid Harry down on the Dursley's doorstep.

Dumbledore took a letter out from inside his cloak and tucked it safely into Harry's blankets, then turned around and walked back to the other two and the little bundle of blankets. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, Arrow made a humming noise inside her blankets, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. Give Arrow here Hagrid. I must take her to her new home."

Dumbledore toke the little bundle of blankets from Hagrid and said, "Then may as well go join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street with Arrow, still humming slightly, in his arms. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light speed back to their lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could see a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, him and the bundle in his arms was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be awoken in a few hours time by Mrs. Dursley's screams as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, not knowing that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley, nor that in the years to come he would forget all about his twin sister… He couldn't possibly know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the world were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry and Arrow Potter- the twins that lived!"


	2. The Vanishing Glass

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on their front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door: it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked to be a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets- but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now all the photos showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had the funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back at the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Dudley's birthday- how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise- unless of course it involved punching someone. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier then he really was because all he had to wear were old cloths of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it for as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she'd said. "And don't ask questions."

_Don't ask questions- _that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!' he barked, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way- all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angle- Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less then last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia must have scented danger also for she said, quickly, "And we'll by you another _two _presents while we're in town today. How's that, popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty…thirty…"

"Thirty- nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, gently.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest package. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the phone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "'s broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photos of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though she thought he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there- or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend- Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back to find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly "…and leave him in the car…"

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…"

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact he wasn't really crying- it had been years since he'd really cried- but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I…don't…w-want him…t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang- "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically- and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursley's car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.

"I'm warning you," he'd said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy- any funny business, anything at all- and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking like he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and tapped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he _couldn't_ explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as everyone else', there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursley's had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he had shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front of them. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it wasn't supposed to, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon- they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was care full to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerboxer glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the rest of the first.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can- but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself- no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were level with Harry's.

_It winked._

Harry started. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly ;

"_I get that all the time._"

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was breed in captivity. "Oh, I see- so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIVE _WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened- one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the snake's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and ran for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come….. Thankssss, amigo."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where'd the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go- cupboard- stay- no meals" before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Harry lay his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.

He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never talked about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photos of them in the house.

When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old women dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.

At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old cloths and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.


	3. The Lion

Nearly ten years had gone by since the Mecnares had found a baby girl on their front step, but Moonstone Lane hadn't changed a bit. The sun rose on the same neat, bright green lawns as always and slowly crawled its way into the kitchen and then living room of number twenty-two. Only the pictures on the fireplace told how much time had gone by. Instead of a stick in different colored dresses and bonnets, they all showed an older Rachelle on her first bike ride, modeling new cloths, riding the Farris Wheel at the carnival with her mother, riding a pony. Most all of the photos showed an inseparable Rachelle Mecnare and Arrow Potter though some showed them by themselves doing crazy things or with one of the others in the extensive Mecnare clan.

Yes Arrow Potter was still here. She was asleep at the moment, but not for long. The first sound of the day came from Rachelle pounding on her door.

"Come on Arrow you're going to sleep the day away and Mom and Dad say they have a surprise for us!"

"All right, all right Shell! Good grief, wake the dead why don't you while you're at it?" Arrow groaned and rolled onto her back.

Civet and Walter always said they had a surprise for them whether it was chores or a road trip to the store. She rubbed her face with her hands trying to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one, strange, but good. She had been flying on the back of a giant motorcycle. She had the strange feeling she'd had the dream before.

Arrow looked nothing like the rest of her adoptive family with a slightly thin face, long legs, soft, shiny, jet-black hair that went down to the small of her back, and always got in her bright green flashing eyes. The only "flaws" in her skin was a small, white, star shaped scar on the right side of her neck, and another scar she had on the palm of her right hand. This scar was the most fascinating thing about her appearance for it was a sickle moon (palm facing her) on the right side facing an eight pointed star. She had had these scars for as long as she could remember. The first question Arrow could ever remember asking Aunt Civet was how she had gotten both scars.

"I'm not exactly sure dear," she had said, her eyes soft. "You had them both when we found you on the step."

By the time Arrow got dressed and got a brush through her long hair Rachelle was stuffing the last bit of a piece of toast into her mouth.

"Rachelle dear don't put so much in your mouth at once," Civet scolded.

Arrow laughed, "Don't worry Aunt Civet, Rachelle's mouth is too big to be able to choke on anything."

Rachelle shoved her in a sisterly way. She was a tall, gangly, muscular girl with her dirty blond hair curling the wrong way at the ends at her shoulders.  
Uncle Walter came in after her. "Given up on the whole brushing your hair nonsense Arrow?" he chuckled ruffling her hair as he had every morning since she could remember.

Arrow ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her eyes, "Hey I just brushed it! It's not my fault it has a mind of its own."

"So what's the surprise?" Rachelle asked excitedly.

"Well we were thinking that because you two have been doing so well in school and working so hard with the team that it was time for a treat," said Civet.

"And you two get to choose where we go," said Walter, all of the lines on his face deepening with his grin. "It can be anywhere as long as it's within a few hours drive of here," he added.

"Cool!" the two exclaimed.

"Let's go to the zoo!" said Arrow.

"Yeah! We haven't been there in ages!"

"You were there just last month," laughed Walter.

"Sure but for a limited time Notch the albino line will be here," Arrow wiggled in her chair with excitement.

"Yeah, and he's only going to be here for a few more weeks," said Rachelle. "I've also heard that their tiger female's had cubs!"

"Oh how cute," said Arrow.

"That does sound like fun," said Civet, looking out into space as though she could see the new cubs in her mind.

"Well that settles it then!" said Walter, slapping a big weathered hand onto the table. "We're off to the zoo!"

"Yes!" the girls exclaimed.

Two hours later the four were in the car and heading for the zoo to see the newest arrivals there. It was a beautiful Saturday and the place was packed with families. At the ice cream stand Walter and Civet bought the two girls large chocolate and caramel cones. They watched the spider monkeys chase each other around and around, played peek-a-boo with a baby manatee and the family ate at the zoo's restaurant. They saved the best for last though.

Strait after lunch Rachelle and Arrow dragged Civet and Walter strait to the Cat House were all of the zoo's big cats lived. Beside the entrance door was a big glass display where three handlers were bottle feeding the six new tiger cubs. It was difficult to get a good look at the cubs because there was a crowd of little kids and their parents ogling at the bundles of fluff.

"Come on," said Rachelle. "Let's go in and see Notch. We can see the cubs on the way back out."

"Good idea," said Arrow dodging around a little girl and opened the door.

It was warm and dusty inside, the only light coming through the glass fronts of the enclosures all around them. The enclosures were set in a large circle around a central wooden beam with benches around it where tired out parents and grandparents could sit and rest while keeping an eye on their little ones.

Arrow and Rachelle went straight to the enclosure where Notch was being held. He would have easily reached six feet if he stood on his hind legs and could have killed a fully grown black bear with a swipe of his paw but he didn't look in the mood at the moment. In fact the albino lion was fast asleep with his back to the glass.

"Poor guy," Rachelle said to Arrow. "He looks absolutely bored doesn't he?"

"You would be to if all you had to do all day was have a bunch of people ogle at you and sleep," Arrow said.

A teenage boy came up to the glass beside them. He snorted and banged on the glass.

"Hey leave him alone he's asleep!" Arrow snapped harshly.  
The boy glared down at her a moment then with a twisted gin banged on the glass one last time and walked away saying, "Stupid lion, even stupider females."  
"Jerk," Rachelle huffed at Arrow.  
Arrow nodded glaring after the boy, her green eyes flashing harshly.  
"Hey I'm going to see what the Ocelots are up to," Rachelle said pocking Arrow as she turned to leave the lion to snooze.  
"I'll join you in a moment," Arrow said.

Arrow stood there looking at the beautiful lion. The poor guy. It must be such a boring life being a captive animal. The only thing to look for being the people pressing their noses against the glass and try to disturb it all day long. At least he had a big enclosure to roam around in and a door in the back to get into to escape all the eyes. He also didn't have to worry about any injury from fighting or have to worry about where his next meal was going to come from. All in all he had a good life, but was it a way for a real lion to live?

Notch suddenly twitched one of his ears. Slowly, very slowly, he looked over his shoulder at Arrow. He stood, shook himself, and walked the short distance to the glass to stand right in front of her.

_He winked._

Arrow, eyes wide, tore her eyes away from his and looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching them. No one was. She looked back into Notch's deep caramel eyes and winked back.

Notch looked away from her and pointed his nose at the back of the boy who had banged on the glass of his enclosure, then lifted his eyes to the heavens shaking his head slightly. He gave her a look that quite plainly said:

_"I get that all the time."_  
"I bet," Arrow whispered through the glass lifting a brow. She had a distinct feeling that he knew what she was saying. "It must get really annoying."

He closed his eyes and nodded his enormous shaggy head with a look saying:

_"You have no idea."_

He seemed so old and wise. Arrow wondered how old he really was.

"You're from Africa right?"  
Notch nodded again.

"Do you remember what it was like there?"

He pointed his nose at a little plaque next to his enclosure.  
Notch was born at the San Diego Zoo, U.S.A.

"Oh, should have guessed. So you've never been outside of the zoos?"

Notch shook his head again. He looked past her and bounded back to the center of his enclosure.

"Wow, I've never seen a lion do that before," said Rachelle.

"Holy! God Rachelle, scare me to death why don't you?" Arrow jumped, placing a hand over her heart.

"Sorry. What was just happening? It looked like you two were holding an actual conversation," Rachelle said looking between Arrow and Notch who was still looking down at them.

Arrow shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure what just happened."

"Come on girls!" Civet called to them. "They're closing up the House for feeding time for the cats."

"Coming Mom," said Rachelle.

Arrow felt so bad for Notch. He had spent his entire life as a hostage. As soon as he got comfortable in one place they'd ship off to another one. Just as she turned away Rachelle shrieked and fell to the floor taking Arrow down with her.

"Wow!" Arrow exclaimed when she turned around to the glass front of Notch's enclosure gone.

The massive white lion galloped to the edge and leapt down onto the floor close to the girls. The last of the people in the Lion house started screaming and running through the exits, sweeping Walter and Civet out with them.

Rachelle sat frozen, her mouth and eyes open wide as Notch stopped in front of Arrow and looked into her eyes once more. When Arrow looked into the lion's eyes she saw all the wisdom and happiness of an old, old, and finally free wild beast. She could have sworn a deep, growling voice came from him:

"Thank you young one. May the moon be with you, and may the stars show you your way." And he padded away.

The keeper of the Lion House was beside herself with shock.

But the glass," she kept saying in a high, squeaky voice, "where's the glass?"

The zoo director himself made Civet a cup of extra strong, sweet tea while he stammered his apologies over and over. Rachelle's face was frozen in the look of fear and astonishment it had on when the lion escaped. Arrow sat silent, thinking about what had happened. This wasn't the first time that something unexplainable had happened around her. When her and Rachelle were younger they were walking the block to the park when the guard dogs of the then resident of number thirty busted through the fence and began chasing the two of them. Arrow had grabbed Rachelle and pulled her into the ally, the next thing they knew they were on top of the roof of the house next door. Neither could explain how they had ended up there when the police finally came and got them down. Another time in second grade a boy had been making fun of Rachelle's braces. Arrow had been furious. The next day the teacher told them that the boy wouldn't be with them for a couple of days because over night somehow his teeth had become completely crooked and painful. And once she had lost an earring from her favorite pair down the drain in the bathroom. Next moment there was a burst of air up from the pipe and the earring flew out and landed on the corner of the sink.

A little later they were all back in the car on their way home.

"Girls," said Civet, "are you sure you saw nothing? I mean…..what happened?"

"Well……" said Rachelle with a frightened glance to Arrow.

Arrow gazed steadily out of the window. "I heard him speak."

"Who dear?" asked Civet.

"Notch- I heard Notch talk. Right before he walked past us he said 'May the moon be with you, and may the stars show you your way'."

Civet and Walter exchanged looks.

"Maybe it was just your imagination dear," said Civet. "You've always had such a wild one after all."

"Yeah," Arrow said flatly watching the houses flash past the window. "Yeah maybe I did imagine it. The whole thing even."

"Well I don't know about what you heard afterwords but before the glass vanishing was not in your head," said Rachelle.

"What's that dear?" said Civet.

"What was happening before the glass disappeared?" asked Walter, glancing at them in the back in the review mirror.

"Notch was telling me how he'd never been out of the zoo circuit," Arrow said.

"He was _telling_ you?" Walter asked, his brows knitted in a frown over his dark eyes.

"Well he wasn't exactly _telling_ me but," Arrow shrugged.

"She would ask a question and he would nod," Rachelle said in a rush.

Walter and Civet exchanged looks again.

"And then the glass just vanished?" asked Walter.

"Yeah," said Arrow.

The rest of the trip back to the house was silent, nobody knowing what to say.

Arrow lay on her bed much later, looking at the pencil drawings she had done over the years and hung on her bedroom walls. Almost every inch of wall space was taken up by the drawings. Even her art teacher back in elementary said she was exceptionally good with a pencil, and her talent steadily became better and better until when she colored her pictures and showed people they always thought they were photographs.

The alarm clock on her in table said it was past midnight. She was tired but she couldn't sleep, the mystery of the vanishing glass and the rumbling voice was racing through her mind not allowing it to shut down.

She'd been living with the Mecnares for almost ten years, for as long as she could remember, ever since she'd been a baby and the Mecnares had found her on their step. She couldn't remember anything about her real parents or her life before the Mecnares. Sometimes, if she strained her memory during the times she couldn't sleep she would come up with a very strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on her neck and her right palm. She supposed this memory was from before she had been abandoned but she couldn't make head or tail of it.

Once when she was younger she had asked Civet and Walter how they knew to call her Potter. They had told her that there had been a letter left with her and that they would tell her what it all contained when she was older. Every year for the next three years she had asked if she was yet old enough, and every time she was told not yet.

When she had been younger, Arrow had dreamed that some relation, maybe even her parents, would come and tell her why she had abandoned on the Mecnares door step. This dream never came true, she was her only family. Yet sometimes she thought that strangers in the street seemed to know her. They were very strange strangers too. A younger woman had curtsied to her once while out shopping with Aunt Civet and Rachelle. A wiled- looking old man had tipped his hat and smiled happily at her one time on the bus. And a kind looking young man had kissed her hand on the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The strangest thing about these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Arrow tried to get a closer look.

Despite all of this she was quite popular at school. She was co-captain of the cheerleading squad, Rachelle of course being the captain. Sometimes people would make a request for her to draw them a picture and she would charge them a dollar for a none colored and two for a colored (or she would settle for candy of some kind).

She must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing she knew she was dreaming of faceless couples and lions and for some reason boa constrictors.


	4. The Letters From No One

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quit happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.

This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old privet school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it- it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to by his new Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quit as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other when the teacher wasn't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later in life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. Is seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did whenever he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High- like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses from the smell of Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and- _a letter for Harry._

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a gigantic elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives- he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter _H_.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry went back into the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk…"

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's _mine_!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as if she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness- Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"_I _want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it is _mine_."

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.

"Let _me _see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchens door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between the door and the floor.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address- how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching- spying- might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-"

Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer….. Yes, that's best…. We won't do anything….."

"But-"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we would stomp out that crazy nonsense?"

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.

"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I've burned it."

"It was _not _a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked painful.

"Er- yes, Harry- about this cupboard. Your aunt and I've been thinking…. You're really getting a bit big for it….we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first room. It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and looked around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't _want _him in there…. I _need _that room …. Make him get out…."

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. But, today, he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his turtle through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail came, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive-'"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard- I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley- go– just go."

Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know that he hadn't received his first letter. Surly that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole down stairs without turning on any of the lights.

He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the hall toward the front door-

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat- something _alive_!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been planning to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go make him a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"I want-" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.

Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouth full of nails, "if they can't _deliver _them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, They're not like you and me" said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with a piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could get out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters for Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to _you _this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his toast, "no damn letters today-"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one-

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some cloths. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the backseat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer into his sports bag.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake'em off…. Shake'em off…." He would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone for so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the passing cars and wondering….

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours latter, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for no one knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back into the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plow field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television_."

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it really _was_ Monday- and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television- then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun- last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out to sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way up to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fire place was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with a few of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and mad up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching sound? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds… twenty…ten…nine-maybe he'd wake up Dudley, just to annoy him- three… two…one…

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.


	5. No One Known

The escape of Notch made headlines in the newspaper for the next several days and was the talk of school for a week. There were talks of putting the old lion down because of him escaping but after receiving hundreds of letters (some of them a bit nasty) the zoos decided not to.

After the escape a lot of Arrow's classmates came to her with requests for lion pictures with the lion standing proudly on a spur of rock all the way down to two males fighting to the death. She made enough in those last few weeks of school that the next time Civet went to town Arrow tagged along to get another couple pads of paper and a pack of colored pencils so that she could work on her own ideas.

Arrow was thrilled that school was finally over. She had never been a very good morning person and now she would be able to sleep in, at least until Rachelle would come and get her.

"Come on Shell!" Arrow complained as the other dragged her outside. "It's the first day of summer. There's no more need to practice!"

"Oh yes there is! We've got to stay in shape for next year."

"I didn't know Diamonds had a cheer squad."

Both Arrow and Rachelle were in the running for the all girls private school Diamonds.

"Of course they do! They have one of the best squads in the country."

As the summer wore on with no response from Diamonds Rachelle began to get nervous.

"Don't worry Rachelle dear," Civet soothed her one day when the mail came in with still no letters from the school. "Diamonds is a very reserved school. They always wait till the last moment to send acceptances. Why I remember I didn't get mine till a week before school started."

Rachelle groaned as though she was going to be sick.

"Shell chill," Arrow said. "Don't worry about school, worry about summer and having as much fun as possible before getting shipped off to be, once again, treated as clones."

The next morning all four of them were just finishing breakfast when the mail arrived. Rachelle jumped with a small gasp.

"Don't worry," said Arrow standing with a grin at her, "I'll get it."

There were three things lying on the doormat: a post card from Civet's niece China and her husband vacationing in Paris, a brown envelope that looked like a business thing for Walter, and a yellowish envelope for her.

As she read the address Arrow's eyes went wide.

Miss A. Potter

The Third Bedroom

22 Moonstone Lane

Little Tree

Surrey

How could an address be so specific as to go so far as put where you sleep?

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in shining emerald-green ink. There wasn't a stamp or return address. As she walked back toward the kitchen she turned it over to see a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake all surrounding a large letter _H_.

"Do any of you know where this could have come from?" Arrow asked at large when she re-entered the kitchen, holding up the envelope and handing the other two things to Civet.

Walter took the letter curiously. When he saw the coat of arms he froze. "Civet," he said in an attempt at calm.

Civet walked up behind him, took one look at the seal and turned quickly away, putting a hand over her mouth.

"Aunt Civet, what's wrong?" Arrow asked, concerned.

"Are you all right Mum?" Rachelle said looking up at Civet with a frown.

"Civet it's time," Walter said gently. "We can't put it off any longer."

After a moment Civet spoke, "Yes, yes I know. I was just hoping we would never have to tell her."

Walter sighed heavily, "You're not the only one."

"What's going on? What is it time for? What were you hoping to never have to tell me?" Arrow said looking from Civet to Walter and back again.

Civet sat carefully taking Walter's hand in hers, "It's time for you to know what was in that letter that was with you when we found you."

Rachelle looked sharply up at her mother. Arrow froze, lips parted slightly. Slowly she sat down at her usual place, the letter sitting seal up in the center of the table.

"The letter was from a man named Albus Dumbledore," said Walter, "the headmaster of a school called Hogwarts which I'm sure is where this letter comes from. He explained in the letter that your real parents, James and Lilly Potter, were in hiding when….when the man they were hiding from found your family and….and killed your parents. It said you have a twin brother named Harry and that he's living with your Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley Dursley down in Little Winging."

"Wait I have a brother!" Arrow exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I have a family! Why am I not with them? Why-?"

"The letter said," Walter cut across her, "the letter said that Dumbledore separated you two to keep you both safe. That it was less likely for the man who murdered your parents to find you when you were apart."

"Who was this man? Why did he come after us?"

"His name was Voldemort," Civet sighed. "We're not sure why he went after your family other than he was a tyrant and your parents fought against him."

"Well then he probably just wanted my parents right?" said Arrow sitting down again. "He got my parents so why keep coming after me and……….my brother?"

"We don't know dear," said Civet, shaking her head. "We only know what the letter told us. That you were a little orphaned girl; that you had a twin brother; that your parents were murdered and…….."

"And what?" Arrow said.

"Open your letter and we'll tell you Arrow," said Walter, pushing the letter toward her.

Arrow picked it up, stared at the seal for a moment, looked up at the people she had known as family her entire life and opened the letter. She read the first line out loud:

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" She looked up in bewilderment at Walter and Civet who waved her on. "Dear Miss Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What is this?"

"There was one last thing in the letter Arrow," said Walter quietly. He leaned forward onto the table and said, "It said that your parents were magic, that your brother was magic, and that you were magic. In other words, you're a witch."

Arrow's mouth clamped shut, her eyes as wide and wiled as a frightened horse's. She swallowed hard, lay down the letter and stood sharply marching from the room.

"Arrow!" Civet called.

"I need some air," Arrow said breathlessly.

When she got out of the house and onto the side walk Arrow turned right and begun to run. She ran and ran, seemingly tirelessly, block after block flashing past her. It was some time before she stopped running. When she did she was panting slightly with a stitch forming in her ribs. She looked around herself to see she had ended up ten blocks away from the house.

"Beautiful," Arrow muttered turning back the way she had come.

It was amazing that she hadn't run into or had a car run into her as she ran. Luckily it was during the time of day when if people had work to get to they were long gone and there was no one in the roads.

She started walking back toward the house her mind spinning. Her parents were dead, murdered by a man named Voldemort. She had family down in Little Winging, a twin brother. Could it be true, could she really be a witch? No, everything was wrong. Why would the Mecnares lie to her about this?

Her head fell back so she was looking up at the sky, tears slowly running down her face. There was no way she could be a witch. _What about all the things that have happened around you? _A little voice in the back of her mind said. _What about the whole ending up on the roof thing? And that boy who had strait teeth one day and the next they were all crocked did you done that?_ Could it possibly be possible that she _could_ do magic?

A little whine from a bush she was passing made her stop dead in her tracks. She stood staring at the bush for a moment, she took two steps and the whining sound made her stop again. The lowest leaves moved and a little black nose pocked out from underneath the prickly branches. Arrow looked up and down the street. There wasn't a person in sight. She bent down and slowly reached out to lift the branches.

"Oh you poor little thing," Arrow whispered.

Wiggling there under the bush was a lone little black puppy, barley three weeks old.

Arrow looked around again. There was no sign of the puppy's mother or siblings, the area underneath cold with no sign of there ever been a litter of pups here.

"Come here you," Arrow said to the little puppy.

It barley had its eyes open and seemed to thin. It was completely black but for a dark brown patch over one eye and its tale tipped in white. It had dark eyes and was shivering.

"It's all right now little one," Arrow told the puppy holding it against her.

She felt terrible for the little puppy but it also, sadly, cheered her to know that there was someone even more alone in the world than she felt right then. But as she held the puppy, she didn't feel so alone anymore and hoped the puppy didn't either.

"Arrow, thank goodness! My, what in the world do you have there dear?" Civet said the moment Arrow entered the house.

"I found her as I was walking back," Arrow told her. "She was under a bush and completely alone. I couldn't just leave here there all by herself."

"Arrow is that you!" Rachelle's voice called from the second floor. She appeared at the top of the stairs and her face brightened at the sight of the little puppy. "Aaawwww, how cute! Where did he come from?"

"What's with the awing?" Walter asked coming into the hall from the living room.

"I found this little girl under a bush on my way back," Arrow said with a grin as Rachelle petted the puppy and it licked her fingers.

"Now what were you doing out in that big bad world all by yourself little one?" Walter asked the puppy, patting its little head.

"Can we keep her?" Rachelle asked, eyes shining, looking up at her parents.

"Yeah, can we?" Arrow asked also, the puppy sucking her finger.

Civet and Walter looked at one another, Walter smiling this goofy half smile.

Civet sighed, looking from her husband to the two girls to the little puppy in Arrow's arms. "Oh alright, but only if a vet gives her the all clear."

After Aunt Civet collected her purse and finally found the car keys the Mecnares were all in the car with the little puppy in Arrow's lap now crying for food heading for the veterinarian office.

Arrow told the vet she had found the puppy. After a few moments of examination and a few tests the vet said that for the manner of how Arrow had come across her the puppy was extraordinarily healthy but a bit dehydrated and extremely hungry. He gave the puppy a few shots, equipped the Mecnares with formula and a bottle and wished them luck with her.

"What are you going to name her?" Dr. Boecker asked them with a friendly grin, handing the puppy back to Arrow.

"That's a good question," Rachelle said frowning at the puppy.

"Haven't thought of that yet," said Arrow. She held the puppy up so they were nose to nose, "What do you think huh?"

The puppy just wagged her tail and licked her nose. Arrow closed her eyes tight and wrinkled her nose as the others laughed. She lowered the puppy back into her arms. "Thanks," she said, rubbing her nose furiously with her hand.

"How about Tippy?" Walter laughed, as the puppy's white tipped tail wagged.

"Dad, that makes her sound like she's drunk!" Rachelle laughed. "What about Patch?"

"What about Holly?" Arrow said. "I'm pretty sure it was a holly bush I found her under."

"I like it," said Rachelle.

"Holly it is then," said Walter. "Though I still like Tippy."

A week later and Holly had grown from a fuzz ball to a fuzz ball that was learning to get her paws under her control.

"Everybody report to the kitchen!" Walter called up the stairs.

"On it!" Arrow and Rachelle answered, they paused the game they were playing on the computer and skidded into the kitchen with Holly skidding in after them.

"You two are a bad influence on that dog," said Civet, shaking her head.

"We're just helping her learn how to use those oversized paws," said Rachelle.

"That being said," Walter interrupted, "let's get to the point of why I got you two down here. Now, it's only five days until Arrow's birthday. We've got to pick somewhere to go to celebrate. Arrow, where do you want to go this year?"

Arrow squinted her eyes and cocked her head, thinking heard. "How about camping at that one little cabin place in the forest we stayed at a few years ago? It was a lot of fun there." She looked down to see Holly playing tug- of- war with her pants leg. "Hey you let go," she bent and picked up the little dog.

"Nature girl through and though eh?" Walter laughed.

"Yep," Arrow answered with a big grin. "And Holly can come to right?"

"Well of course! We can't leave her here now can we!" said Walter, he leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "That just wouldn't be far to the poor guy who got stuck with the job of house sitting now would it?"

Arrow and Rachelle laughed.

"You hear that Holly?" Rachelle said to the puppy.

"We're going on a road trip!" Arrow said.

Holly just growled comically as she tugged on the chew toy Rachelle was holding.

The next day the four of them were rushing and scrambling all over the place getting ready to head out and trying not to forget anything. Holly trying to keep up with them on her tiny legs.

The first thing Arrow made sure was safely in the car was her beat up old tan leather backpack with all of her drawing things in it.

While the rest of them waited while Walter packed everything into the trunk, the rest of the old cheer squad showed up with their gifts for Arrow.

"And remember not to open them until the thirty-first," Sara scolded her.

"Oh boy is that going to be tough," Arrow said looking at the gifts now settled safely in the back.

"Don't worry," Rachelle told the others, "I'll make sure she doesn't open them till the day."

"Yeah by opening them yourself," Arrow teased.

The girls all laughed with each other until Walter called that it was time to go.

A few hours into the drive Civet turned to Arrow and asked tentivly, "So what do you think about school dear?"

Arrow shrugged, "I guess if I really am a witch then I better go, but I've no idea where I'll be able to get the things I'll need. Listen to this," she dug in her backpack and extracted the letter. "'First-year students will require: three sets plain work robes, one plain pointed hat, one pair protective gloves (_dragon_ hide or similar), one winter cloak.' And then we need a bunch of books and then also a wand, a cauldron, a set of glass or crystal phials, a telescope, and a set of brass scales."

"There are dragons in England?" Rachelle asked her eyes wide.

"Apparently," Arrow answered frowning down at her list of supplies.

"Maybe we should write the school and ask where we can get these things," Civet said.

"How can we write them?" asked Arrow. "There's no return address and I doubt the post office would be able to deliver to it if it's a magic school."

They left the discussion there, no one knowing how to get a letter to the school or where in London or anywhere else they could get the things Arrow would need.

For the next four days the group went swimming and hiking, played tennis and hide Walter's shoe. Holly started learning how to control her paws and learned that she liked swimming.

The morning of her birthday, _And my brother's_, she thought, Arrow was awoken by a three voice chorus of "Happy Birthday Arrow!"

"Yow!" Arrow exclaimed sitting bolt upright in her top bunk in the cabin and almost falling out.

"Happy eleventh kido!" Walter said mussing her hair as usual once she climbed down.

"Thanks Uncle Walter," Arrow said ducking away from his hand and trying to get her hair to lay flat.

"Now dear," Civet said, "I've made your favorite. Buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and _limp_ bacon."

"And for dessert," Walter said holding up a shopping bag, "I've bought chocolate chocolate chip muffins."

"Great!" Arrow exclaimed rubbing her hands together.

"Around noon we'll get into that cake of yours," Civet said.

"And then we'll let you lose on all those nice looking gifts," Walter added with a wink.

"Nice," Arrow approved, taking a big bite of pancake.

An hour or so later and the family's ideas came to a screeching halt.

Just as Arrow and Rachelle were about to head out to go swimming with Holly;

BOOM.

The entire cabin shook with the force of the knock.

"Good heavens!" Civet explained.

BOOM.

The cabin shook again.

"Who's there?" Walter called through the door.

"Are you Mr. Mecnare?" called the knocker.

"Yes now who are you?"

"Rubeus Hagrid Keeper of Keys and grounds at Hogwarts," came the answer.

"Hogwarts?" Arrow breathed.

Walter looked to each of them then, ever so slowly, he opened the door.

The man standing stooped in the doorway was huge. His face almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy, main of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could see, glinting, black, beetle like eyes under all the unruly hair.

"Hello there Arrow," said the giant man Rubeus Hagrid.

"Hi," said Arrow in a higher pitch then was usual, swallowing hard. "So- so it's true then? There actually is a magic school called Hogwarts?"


	6. Keeper of Keys

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley woke with a jerk.

"Where's the canon?" he asked stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands- now they knew what had been in the thin, long package he'd brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted, I warn you- I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then-

SMASH!

The door had been hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea could yeh? It's not been an easy journey…"

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's Harry!" he said.

Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," the giant said. "Yeh look a lot like your dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering! You take the girl back too!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it were made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Anyway- Harry," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to the both of yeh. Got summat fer yeh here- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with _Happy Birthday Harry _written on it in green icing.

Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" said the giant, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no to summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and snorted.

He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig of before starting to make tea. Nobody said anything while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don't need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, he said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone else does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts o' course."

"Er- no," said Harry.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly.

_"Sorry?"_ barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't getting' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know about Hogwarts, fer crying out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Harry.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean to tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy- this boy! - knows nothin' abou'- about ANYTHING?"

Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad.

"I know _some_ things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. _Your_ world. _Your sister's _world. _Yer parent's world_."

"What world? Wait I have a _sister_?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.

"But yeh must know about yer mom and dad, and sister," he said. "I mean, they're _famous_. You're _famous_."

"What? My – my mom and dad weren't famous, were they? I have a _sister_?"

"Yeh don't know…yeh don't know…." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don't know what yeh are?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left for him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! And you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept _what_ from me?" said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry- yer a wizard."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a _what_?" gasped Harry.

"A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. Along with yer sister. With a mum an' dad like yours', what else would you two be? An' I recon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:

HOQWARTS SCHOOL

_of _WHICHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

Questions exploded inside Harry's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl- a real, live, rather ruffled looking owl- a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Give the twins their letters.

Taking them to get their things tomorrow.

Weathers horrible. Hope you're well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out in to the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still looking ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"He's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

I'd like to see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said.

"A what?" said harry, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's your bed luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on. You'd have done better to live in the family Arrow's grown up in."

"Who?"

"Your twin sister Arrow."

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," Uncle Vernon cut in, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You _knew_?" said Harry. "You _knew_ and you never told me?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "_Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that- that _school_- and came home every summer with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one to see her for what she really was- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were so proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she meat that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you and that other girl, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as-as-_abnormal_-and then she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily and James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry and Arrow Potter not knowing their own story when every kid in our world knows their names!"

"But why? What happened?" asked Harry.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He suddenly looked anxious.

"I never expected this," he said in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don't know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh- but someone's gotta- yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, its best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh- mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…But maybe it should wait till we've collected yer sister?"

"Tell me now Hagrid, please?"

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with- with a person called- but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows-"

"Who?"

"Well- I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went…bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…"

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested.

"Nah- can't spell it. All right- Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this- this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got'em, too- some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who to trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him- an' he killed'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' yet, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get'em on his side before…probably knew they were to close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade'em… maybe he just wanted'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You two was only a year old. He came ter yer house an'-an'-"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad- knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find- anyway…

"You-Know-Who killed'em. An' then- an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing- he tried to kill you, also while his creature went after your sister. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it, neither could. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That's no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh- took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house even- but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age- the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts- an' you was only a baby, an' yeh lived. Nobody knows what his creature was since everyone who could have said never survived, except your sister that is."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw the blinding flash of green light more clearly than ever before- but this time, for the first time in his life he remembered something else: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching him sadly.

"Took you two from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh, Harry, ter this lot…"

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have gotten back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured- and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the worlds better off without them in my opinion- asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types- just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley- I'm warning you- one more word…"

In danger of being spread on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry – I mean You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Right along with his creature. Same night he tried to kill you two. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see… he was getting' more an' more powerful- why'd he go?

"Some say he and his creature died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there with his creature beside him, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back to ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don't recon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us recon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you two finished him. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on- _I_ dunno what it was, no one does- but somethin' about you two stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be, with a witch sister somewhere out there no less? He'd spent his entire life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?

"Hagrid," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Harry looked into the fire. Now that he thought about it… every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry… chased by Dudley's gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach…dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it grow back…and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you and yer sister'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you he isn't going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish- spell books and wands and-"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His and Arrow's names have been down ever since they were born. They're off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. They'll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CROCKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER-" he thundered, "- INSULT- ALBUS DUMBLEDORE- IN FORNT- OF- ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley- there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail pocking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm- er- not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff- one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job-"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well- I was at Hogwarts meself but I- er- got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's getting' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that. And before we do that we've got to collect yer sister."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don't mind if it wiggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."


	7. Diagon Alley

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was day light, he kept his eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards and that I had a twin sister called Arrow. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

_And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door_, Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."

He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

"Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl-"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer delivern' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing _but _pockets- bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, tea bags… finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange- looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta collect your sister from the forest then we'll all be off ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.

"Um-Hagrid?" said Harry.

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't any money- and you heard Uncle Vernon last night…he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed-"

"They didn't keep their gold in the house boy! Nah, first stop fer us will be Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold- an' I wouldn't say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."

"Wizards have banks?" asked Harry

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.

"_Goblins_?"

"Yeah-so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe- 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a mater o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you two- gettin' things from Gringotts- knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin'? Come on then."

Harry followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"_Flew_?"

"Yeah- but we'll go back in this. Once we get there we'll take the train then a bus to get your sister."

They settled down in the boat, Harry staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter-er- speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out his pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try to rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.

"Spells- enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there are dragons guardin' the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way back out- Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the _Daily Prophet_.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"What does a Ministry of Magic _do_?" Harry asked.

"Well their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches and wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"_Why?_ Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

Passerby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. The twins couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as everyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are _dragons_ at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd _like_ one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid- here we go."

They had reached the station. The train they needed would be stopping in five minutes. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Harry so he could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)One plain pointed hat (black) for day wearOne pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that pupils' cloths should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling

_A Biginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them _by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set bras scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all of this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

Once they got off of the train they walked a few blocks to the bus stop. They got off the bus when the driver called, "Last stop, Camp Everglade!" and went up to the office where, outside there was an older woman sweeping the dust out of the small cabin.

"Scuse me ma'am," said Hagrid, walking up to the door and beaming down at her.

The woman looked up and seemed taken aback by the size of Hagrid, steeping back and narrowing her eyes.

"Could yeh tell us where cabin 125 is?"

The woman glanced at Harry and glared up at Hagrid for a moment. Seeming to decide the two of them were no trouble pointed to a deer trail behind them.

"Go up that trail. It's the second cabin on the left set back in the trees. Look for the sign."

"Great!" said Hagrid, clapping his hands together. "Come on then Harry."

"Thank you," Harry said quickly to the woman and trotted after Hagrid.

Hagrid had trouble getting past the trees that pressed in on both sides of the winding deer trail. After several minutes of struggle they turned off the trail onto a path paved with slate after a sign painted with fading letters reading: Cabin 125.

After a minute or so a small two room cabin appeared out of the trees. Hagrid winked down at Harry then strode up to the door. He knocked once and a voice sounded within and he knocked again.

"Who's there?" called a man's voice.

"Are you Mr. Mecnare?" said Hagrid.

"Yes now who are you?"

"Rubeus Hagrid Keeper of Keys and grounds at Hogwarts.

There was a pause and slowly the door opened. Hagrid stooped to see inside.

"Hello there Arrow," he said.

"Hi," said a hesitant, liquid like voice. "So- so it's true then? There actually is a magic school called Hogwarts?"

Arrow stood looking up into the wild, shadowy face to see the black eyes were crinkled in a big smile.

"Yes there is," the giant man Rubeus Hagrid said. "Gotta tell yeh it's good teh hear yeh know abou' it. Had ter explain everything to yer brother. Yeh look exactly like your mother except fer yer hair course. Come on out, I want yeh ter meet someone."

Arrow glanced at the Mecnares.

"Go on dear," said Civet with a smile, "we'll be right behind you."

She swallowed, bent to pick up Holly and with her eyes stuck on the giant who was backing out of her way she went outside.

"Arrow," he said happily, "met yer twin brother Harry," and he pointed to a boy who had been hidden behind him.

She heard Civet gasp behind her as her own mouth fell open and her eyes went wide, the same expression on the boy Harry's face.

"Whoa," said Rachelle coming up beside her.

"No kidding," Arrow and Harry chorused.

"Well we got teh make this reunion short s'rry teh say," said Rubeus Hagrid. He looked to the Mecnares and continued, "I'm here ter take Harry and Arrow up to London, teh get their school things see?"

"Oh really?" said Civet.

"Um…" Arrow paused looking up at him.

"Oh sorry call me Hagrid," he said holing out his hand and shaking her entire arm, "everyone else does."

"Hagrid, right," said Arrow one eyebrow raised, "you said were going to _London_ to get supplies for a _magic_ school?"

"Well in Diagon Alley yes," said Hagrid.

"Wow!" Rachelle exclaimed. She turned shining eyes from Hagrid to her parents and back, "Can I go to? Pleeeaaasssseee?"

"Sorry dear," said Civet, putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "I'll need you to stay here and take care of Holly and help your father. To make sure he doesn't burn down the whole forest, you know," she said the last in a stage whisper with one twinkling eye on her husband.

"Hey that was not my fault last year," Walter said defensively.

"It never is Walter," said Civet with a wink at Harry and Hagrid.

"Your coming Aunt Civet?" asked Arrow, her head cocked slightly

"Well of course dear," Civet said as she bustled back into the cabin, "someone has to make sure you don't cause these two too much trouble."

Arrow stuck her tongue out at Civet's back but quickly hid so when she turned back around to add, "Now come and get your shoes on dear, we've got to get all your things and get back for supper for your cake and gifts."

"Oh that reminds me," said Hagrid rooting in one of the pockets in his coats. "I got sommat fer yeh here. There we go."

He pulled a box from his pocket and handed it to Arrow. She handed Holly to Rachelle and opened it to find a sticky, chocolate cake with green icing spelling _Happy Birthday Arrow_ on top.

"Cool, thanks!" said Arrow, grinning up at Hagrid.

"Arrow!" came Civet's voice from the cabin.

Arrow winced and looked around to the door standing open, "Be right back," she said to Hagrid and Harry and she ran into the cabin.

She put the cake in the little fridge and went into the bedroom to slip on her flip flops and pull a tank top over her swimsuit.

"Now where did Walter put those keys," Civet muttered as she rooted around in the drawer in the in table beside the queen bed and then her purse.

"Um Aunt Civet," said Arrow.

"Hmm?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that because I doubt Hagrid would fit inside."

Civet stopped rooting and looked at her, "Why didn't I think about that?"

Arrow shrugged and left with a big grin, Civet behind her.

"Well now let's get going. You two be careful while we're gone!" she called to Walter and Rachelle.

"Don't worry Mom," Rachelle yelled back, "I'll make sure Dad doesn't burn down the cabin!"

"For the last time that was not my fault!" shouted Walter.

"Sure it wasn't," said Arrow, Rachelle, and Civet together.

The four of them walked back down the trails to the bus stop.

"You live with our aunt and uncle huh?" said Arrow finally as they climbed onto the bus. "What are they like?"

"Terrible," Harry muttered. "They're completely anti-magic and so are anti-me."

"Oh," said Arrow, a little put out. "This is Civet by the way."

"Just call me Aunt Civet dear," Civet said, grinning down at Harry shaking his hand, "Arrow does so you mine as well also."

"Nice to meet you," said Harry smiling back at her.

They sat near the back near a young mother and her two little kids but after one look at Hagrid who took up two seats and pulled out an enormous, knitted, yellow something and began counting stitches she gathered up her kids and moved farther up the bus.

"You got yer letter Arrow?" asked Hagrid as the bus ran swiftly down the road.

"Of course I do," said Arrow pulling the yellow envelope out of her old backpack she had grabbed up at the last moment.

"You've taken a look at the list then?" Hagrid said.

"Yep and I can't wait to see the place where we're going to get all this stuff.

"You're not the only one," said Harry.

The trip to London was long and dull, going from the bus to the train. As they sat Arrow pulled out her sketches and started finishing her picture of Holly.

"Wow that's amazing," said Harry beside her.

Arrow flashed a quick smile at him, "Thanks, I love drawing. Though I usually get in trouble for drawing instead of listening to my teachers during classes."

At last they reached the station and climbed the escalators up to the bustling street above. As they walked Civet did some window shopping and kept telling Arrow, "Make a note of that place dear, I want to stop here on the way home."

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Arrow wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, she had the most peculiar felling that only Civet, Harry and Hagrid could see it. Before she could mention this, Hagrid had steered her, Civet and Harry inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a tooth less walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hands on the twin's shoulders, making their knees buckle slightly.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at the twins, "are these- can these be-?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "the Potter Twins… what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back," he went over to Arrow and seized her hand. "You too, Miss. Potter, welcome back as well."

The twins exchanged looks, neither of them knowing what to say. Everyone was looking at them. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without even realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

Arrow ran a hand through her hair, chewing on her bottom lip, glancing at Civet who placed a gentle hand on her other shoulder.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, the twins found themselves shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Miss. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand, Miss. Potter- I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!"

The twins shook hands again and again- Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Arrow, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand then Arrow's, "can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you both."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" asked Harry.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to pick up a new book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry and Arrow to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all, one even asked Arrow for her autograph. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on- lots ter buy. Come on, you two. This Mrs. Mecnare."

Doris Crockford shook Arrow's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trashcan and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at the twins, Civet standing protectively beside Arrow.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh- mind you, he's usually tremblin'"

"Their famous?" Civet wondered, looking back at the door they had come through.

"O' course they are! They're the only ones who've ever survived a killing curse they are," said Hagrid

"Is the Professor always that nervous?" Arrow asked.

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience… They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag- never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject- now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? Arrow's head was swimming. Harry's eyes were slightly clouded in thought, and Civet looked aghast. Hagrid meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trashcan.

"Three up… two across…" he muttered. "Right, you might wanna stand back."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered- it wiggled- in the middle, a small hole appeared- it grew wider and wider- a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

The twins exchanged amazed looks. Civet gasped, putting one hand over her mouth while the other clasped Arrow's shoulder for support.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at their astonishment. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall, while Arrow looked at all the different shops and stores with Civet beside her looking wide eyed at all around her.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons- All Sizes- Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver- Self-Stirring- Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you two'll be needin' one each," said Hagrid' "but we gotta get yer money first."

"See Aunt Civet, you didn't need to lug your purse with you," said Arrow, chuckling

"Very funny Arrow," Civet said faintly, still looking around her with wide eyes.

Arrow watched Harry looking around at the shops, looking as though he was about to give himself wipe lash. Laughing slightly she pocked him playfully in the ribs. "Easy bro or you'll dislocate your neck. We _will_ be here many more times you know."

Harry grinned at her, Arrow answering with a smile herself.

A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad…"

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium- Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about the twins age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Arrow heard one of them say as though she were right next to him, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand- fastest ever-" There were shops for robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments neither of the twins had ever seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon….

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was-

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him.

Civet gasped again at the sight and clutched even more tightly onto Arrow's shoulder.

The goblin was about a head shorter than the twins. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Arrow noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it" said Hagrid.

"I bet," Arrow whispered, staring, shocked at the graceful curved words.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid, Arrow, Civet, and Harry made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. and Miss. Arrow Potter's safe."

"You have their key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Arrow watched the goblin on their left weighing a pile of sapphires as big as Hagrid's fist, while Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies the size of glowing coals. Civet had her eyes closed tight and Arrow could faintly hear her counting to ten under her breath before she reopened them.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about You-Know-What in vault seven hundred thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Arrow, Civet, and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred thirteen?" Harry asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my jobs worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in- Hagrid with some difficulty- and they were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought, he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late- they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," Harry called over the noise of the cart to the other three, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now I think I'm gonna be sick."

He did look very green.

"I learned that in fifth grade, Harry!" Arrow yelled in amazement. "Stalactites have to hold on _tight _to hang onto the roof and stalagmites have to be _mighty_ to push up through the floor."

The cart stopped, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling. Civet leaned against Arrow, swaying from side to side slightly.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, the twins gasped, moths open, glancing at each other. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"Oh my," Civet gasped.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid at the twins.

All theirs- it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than a humming- birds heartbeat. How could they have known that all this time there had been a small fortune belonging to him and his sister?

"Arrow dear, we're going to have to talk about your allowance," Civet said.

Arrow and Harry burst out laughing at that.

Hagrid helped the twins pile some of it into a bag Arrow said she would be able to carry in her pack.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, its easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, the twins leaned over on either side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled them back by the scruff of their necks.

Vault seven hundred thirteen had no key hole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Civet asked faintly.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.

Something very extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and him and Arrow leaned forward to see what it could be- but at first they both thought it was empty. Then Arrow noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper bag lying on the floor. Hagrid snatched it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. The twins exchanged wondering looks.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and do a favor and don't talk to me on the way back, its best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to drag Arrow first now that they had a bag full of money.

"Might as well get yer uniforms," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick.

"Mind if I came with you," Civet asked a bit cross eyed.

So Harry and Arrow entered Madam Malkin's shop together. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. He stared at Arrow. Harry moved closer to Arrow not liking the way the boy was looking at his sister. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length, while a third witch with short brown hair and wearing sky blue robes came in, stood Arrow on a stool next to Harry and did the same.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," the twins said together.

The boy looked at the two of them.

"Are you twins?"

"Yes," they said again.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley. Harry and Arrow exchanged looks. Arrow with one eyebrow raised.

"Have_ you_ got your own brooms?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry, Arrow was looking straight ahead, deep in thought.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"I do- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man," said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and Arrow, pointing at three large ice creams to show he couldn't come in with Civet, looking slightly embarrassed, holding another cone. She saw them, smiled, and gave a little wave, mouthing "Do you want me to come in dear?" Arrow smiled with a little shake of her head.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry.

"He works at Hogwarts," said Arrow.

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the game keeper," said Arrow who, according to her eyes, was starting to _really_ dislike the boy.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage_- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," the twins said together. Neither really wanted to go into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the boy, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they."

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean," Arrow growled, narrowed, flashing eyes pointed at the boy who looked away.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," Harry hopped off the footstool.

"Your done, hun," said the witch, pinning Arrow's robes. Arrow hopped lightly onto the floor beside her brother.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Arrow caught Harry's eye and mouthed, "I hope not." Harry nodded.

The twins were rather quiet as they ate the ice creams Hagrid had bought them (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts) walking between him and Civet.

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"What's the matter dear?" Civet asked concerned, looking at Arrow. "You're never this quiet."

"Nothing," the twins lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote, and Arrow was thrilled when she bought a drawing pad. When they left the shop, Harry said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little you two know- not knowing about Quidditch!"

"Don't make us feel worse," Arrow said. Harry told Hagrid and Civet about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.

"-and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in-"

"Yer_ not_ from a Muggle family. If he'd known who you two _were_- he's grown up known' yer names if his parents are wizarein' folk. You both saw what everyone was like in the Leaky Cauldron when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line of Muggles- look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what is Quidditch?" asked Arrow.

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like- like soccer in the Muggle world- everyone follows Quidditch- played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls- sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"Goodness!" Civet exclaimed, she hated heights.

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" said Arrow.

"School Houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but-"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-, sorry- You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?" said Harry amazed.

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

"You mean these children are going to the same school as the man who killed their parents?" Civet asked incredulous.

"Don't worry about us Aunt Civet," Arrow said. "We'll be fine."

They bought the twins' school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on a few of these. Hagrid and Arrow had to practically drag Harry away from _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges; Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn't work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

"Good," Civet said approvingly.

Hagrid and Arrow wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron either ("it says pewter on yer list", "We still have six more years of supplies to buy, you know"), and Hagrid and Harry wouldn't let Arrow get a glass globe that showed all the planets and stars and their movements across the sky (Yeh'll be learning that at school", "You already have the skies practicly memorized anyway dear"), but they did get collapsible brass telescopes, and nice sets of scales for weighing potion ingredients. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for the twins with Civet gazing around beside him, Arrow sadly studied silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each, and Harry examined glittery-black, minuscule beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked the twins' lists again.

"Just yer wands left- oh yeh, an' I still haven't gotten yer a birthday present."

Harry felt himself go red.

"You don't have to-" Arrow began.

"That's not really necessary-" Civet started.

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animals. Not toads, toads went outta fashion years ago, you'd be laughed at- actually, Harry I'll get yer an owl, they're dead useful, carrying yer mail an' everythin' an', Arrow, what do yeh want?"

"Umm-" she glanced at Civet. "H-how about a cat?"

"All right but you'll have teh go in on yer own. I'm allergic teh cats."

Civet sighed but said nothing.

Twenty minutes later, they left Eyelops Owl Emporium, which was dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Here we go," He'd stopped outside a little shop called Magical Menagerie.

Hagrid gave Arrow two gold Galleons and told her to get a cat, a carrier, and a month worth of food.

Civet decided to stay outside. There was hardly any room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. Arrow went up to the witch behind the counter.

"Excuse me," said Arrow. The witch turned around from examining a large purple toad and smiled, she was wearing thick black glasses.

"May I help you?" said the witch.

"Do you have any kittens?"

"Yes. They're in the back, dear. One moment." The women vanished through a door in the back of the small shop.

The witch reappeared carrying a large box. Little mewlings were coming from inside.

"Here are all the kittens we have," said the witch, putting the box down on the counter.

Inside were four kittens. An orange, an electric blue, and a shining violet one were all huddled together in one corner of the box, while the fourth, a tiny, smoky gray, was curled up at the other end looking at the other three. The gray was way too tiny and looked as though it hadn't eaten for a while.

"What's wrong with the little gray one?" Arrow said.

"Oh, the poor little thing. Her litter mates won't let her eat, and they're always batting her around. I've tried to separate her so that she could eat but she just gets sick. You can pick them up if you like."

Arrow scooped up the little gray kitten. She didn't resist. The kitten was very small. Her fur was a dark, smoky gray but she had lighter colored marks around her eyes and on one side. What surprised Arrow was that the kitten's eyes were the exact color of fire, burning and flickering.

As soon as the kitten's soft fur touched her finger tips, Arrow's moon and star scare burned slightly, then as soon as it had come, the burn was gone.

"What's her name?" Arrow said.

"I never gave her a name."

"How much do you want for her?"

The kitten started purring. A sweet, little purr.

"Three Sickles," the witch answered.

"I'll take her. I'll also need a carrier and a month worth of food."

Arrow paid the bill, put her new kitten in the carrier, grabbed the bag of food, and went outside to join Civet, Harry and Hagrid.

"Thanks Hagrid," said Arrow, smiling.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid uneasily, looking away from her. "Just Ollivanders left now- only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

The twins exchanged excited looks. A magic wand…. This was what both of the twins had been looking forward to.

"Oh dear," Civet sighed, "it's a good thing you can't do magic at home."

"What you don't trust me?" Arrow asked grinning.

"You yes, you with a wand no," Civet said taking the carrier from her and peering in.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid offered to Civet, who shook her head. He shrugged and sat on to wait. There were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

Arrow looked at a glass case behind the counter. A sleek, cherry colored wand lay in a case with sky blue velvet lining and made of the same cherry colored wood, the case itself lay on a violet cushion.

_Why is this wand so important? _Arrow thought to herself.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Arrow spun around so fast that her hair whipped her face. Civet gave a little squeak. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he quickly got off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Afternoon," said Arrow, running a hand through her hair walking up to stand next to her brother.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you two soon. The Potter Twins." It wasn't a question. "It seems like only yesterday your mother and father were here buying their first wands."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Arrow, close enough to where she could see herself reflected in those misty eyes. He then moved over to Harry, coming so close that they were almost nose to nose.

"And that's where…"

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly, looking at Arrow whose hand was rubbing the right side of her neck. "Thirteen- and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…'

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again….Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er- yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Arrow saw Hagrid grip his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

Arrow and Harry exchanged looks, eyebrows raised.

"Well, now-" Mr. Ollivander gave Hagrid a final piercing look, "Mr. Potter, we'll start with you."

He started to take down boxes.

"Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-"

Harry tried- but had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched backed by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no- here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere-" his fingers suddenly stopped flittering over the many boxes. "I wander," he looked over at Harry. He took down a box, took the wand out and stood in front of Harry.

"Holly and phoenix feather eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Civet squeaked a tight, "Goodness!" Hagrid whooped and clapped, Arrow cheered, and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Curious…curious…curious."

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander took the wand and looked intensely at Harry.

"It is curious, Mr. Potter, for the phoenix whose tail feather lies in your wand, gave another- just one other. It is curious that you are destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

"Yes. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember that… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter… After all, He-Who-Must- Not- Be-Named did great things- terrible- yes, but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much.

"Now, Miss. Potter let's give this one a try. Maple and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. A little more power. Try-"

Arrow took the wand with her index finger, middle, and thumb and gave it a sharp flick. No less than a hundred boxes came flying from the shelves.

"Guess not," said Mr. Ollivander taking the wand back. "Ebony and phoenix feather. Seven and a quarter inches, springy. Go on, try it."

Arrow reached for the wand hesitantly and gave it a flick.

A vase on the counter holding a dozen roses exploded into a million pieces. Arrow quickly set the wand on the counter.

"Nope, nope, definitely not," said Mr. Ollivander, eyebrows raised. He suddenly looked at the glass case.

"I wander," he looked at Arrow and quickly moved behind the counter, took a small key from a pocket, opened the case, carefully took the case with the wand in it and scurried back around the counter to stand in front of Arrow.

"This wand is the rarest and the most powerful wand this business has ever created," he said both excited and scared, he looked around nervously as though frightened someone else might be listening in. "I cannot tell you what it is unless it chooses you."

Arrow took a deep breath, reached out her hand, and took the wand with her index, middle and thumb. Suddenly the sickle moon and eight pointed star scar on her palm glowed brilliant silver. A slight breeze started, blowing Arrow's hair back like a shining, black, silk curtain. A silvery, black ribbon appeared through the floor, swirling around Arrow, then when it got about two inches above her head the ribbon started to disappear as if behind an invisible wall.

"Impossible," Hagrid breathed under his breath.

"Goodness!" Civet squeaked again, leaning back against a wall.

"Whoa," said Harry.

"Curious," said Mr. Ollivander, "curious…"

"What's curious, sir," said Arrow setting her new wand back in its case.

"Miss. Potter," said Mr. Ollivander, snapping the box shut, "this wand is the only wand perhaps ever made out of Cherry wood. Inside this wand lies the most powerful substance you can put into_ anything,_ let alone a wand. A tail hair from a… from a centaur."

Hagrid gasped.

"Not just any centaur, oh, no…no. The hair from the great Orion himself gave these hairs just days before he died. The centaur that gave you that scar there on your hand."

Arrow looked down at her hand. She raised her right hand, fist clenched. When she opened her hand a brilliant silver light filled the little shop. Once his eyes had adjusted to the sudden light, Harry saw for the first time a sickle moon and an eight pointed star on the palm of his sister's right hand. Harry and Arrow gasped.

"It didn't used to be like that," Arrow whispered.

They paid their bill and left the shop. As soon as the door shut behind them Arrow said, "What did he mean Hagrid? About a centaur giving me the scar?"

"I'm not sure if I'm the one to tell you that Arrow. But you'll need ter know before yeh go to Hogwarts," he paused then-

"Well, it all starts with Orion. Now Orion wasn't just any centaur mind you, no, no. Orion was the most powerful, oldest, wisest centaur in all of England. Now the second you was born Orion was there, a nicer centaur you could never find. Anyway, Orion was there and fer some odd reason he did something that had never been done in all of wizarding history- he blessed a human. Now centaurs don't normally even bless their own children but o' course we don't know all tha' much abou' them but the day yeh were born Orion blessed you. Something about you drew Orion to yeh and it's said that that mark on yer hand is the personal mark of Orion's heard and Orion himself."

"_Orion's_ herd?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Orion was the leader of the largest and most powerful herd in the country. But no one knows if that truly is the symbol of Orion's herd for no human knows the name or symbol of any centaur herd fer they guard that knowledge with their lives."

"The Moon Star Herd," Arrow said under her breath.

"What?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing."

Anyway," Hagrid continued, "the big thing is that that blessing makes yeh even _more_ famous."

"Wounderfull," Civet grunted.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as the twins, Civet and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Neither of the twins spoke at all as they walked down the road; neither even noticed how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl in its cage on Harry's lap, and a black carrier with mewlings coming from it. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; they didn't even realize where they were until Hagrid tapped them on their shoulders.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before your trains leave," he said.

He bought himself and Harry hamburgers and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them with Arrow while she waited for Civet to bring their chicken sandwiches. Arrow stared at the table. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange somehow.

"You two all right? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

Arrow bit her lip and run a hand through her hair. Harry and Arrow looked at each other. They weren't sure if they could put what was going through their heads into words, but Harry tried.

"Everyone thinks we're special," he said. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander… but neither of us know anything about magic."

"How can they expect great things?" Arrow took over when Harry fell silent. "We're famous for something we can't even remember being famous for. I don't know what happened when Orion blessed me. And neither of us remembers what happened the night our parents died."

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don't worry, neither of yeh. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yourself. I know it's hard. You've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts- I did- still do smatter of fact."

"You only know the half of it," Arrow said, biting her lip and shaking her head sadly.

Civet appeared carrying her and Arrow's food and they all fell silent.

Hagrid and Harry helped Arrow and Civet onto the train that would take them back toward the campsite. The twins, now that they knew each other existed, didn't want to be separated. But Aunt Civet took care of that.

"You just ring us up dear if you want to come and we'll bring you right over allright?"

"Thanks Aunt Civet," Harry said awkwardly.

Hagrid gave Arrow a brown envelope.

"Yer ticket," he said. "All the information's on there. Stick to yer ticket Arrow that's very important, stick to yer ticket."

Arrow stuck her head out of the window and waved good-bye one last time to Hagrid and Harry. The next moment the train had started and turned a corner and Harry and Hagrid were gone.

Ten minutes later, Hagrid was helping Harry onto his train. "Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said, handing Harry a brown envelope just like Arrow's. "Information's on the envelope. First o' September- King's Cross- all of it. Any problems with the Dursley's, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me…. See yeh soon, Harry."

The train pulled out of the train station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone.


	8. The Journey from Platform 9 and 34

Harry's last month with the Dursleys wasn't fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn't even stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him- in fact, they didn't speak to him at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Several times he considered taking up Civet's offer to live with the Mecnares but for some reason he could never remember he always talked himself out of it.

Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic. He often sent letters to Arrow with her. Arrow said that her new kitten, who she had decided to call Stargazer for she often caught the kitten staring up at the stars at night, was starting to get darker in color but curious shaped marks around her eyes and her right side were growing a shimmering, lighter color.

He would lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased if she wasn't delivering a letter to Arrow. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on a piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September first.

On the last day of August he thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on TV. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, Dudley screamed and ran from the room.

"Er- Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.

"Er- I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts."

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?'

Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

He was about to go back up stairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Harry, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket.

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.

His aunt and uncle stared.

"Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish,' said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on the ticket."

"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to be keep things friendly.

"Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."

Harry woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn't want to walk into the station in his wizards robes- he'd change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursley's car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry, and they had set off.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them laughing. Harry's mouth went dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig. He'd have to ask someone.

He stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it. Right then Harry heard his name. He turned around and saw Arrow pushing a trunk with a black carrier on top toward him.

"There you are. Have you figured out how to get on the platform yet?" she said, running a hand through her hair.

"No. Have you?" He said, trying to hide his worry from his sister.

"No," she said, making a face that said she was thinking, hard.

"Where are the Mecnares?"

"They had some convention thing to get to."

At that moment a group of people passed right behind Harry and they caught a few words of what they were saying.

"- packed with Muggles, of course-"

Arrow and Harry looked at each other. _"Muggles?"_ Arrow mouthed. She ran a hand through her hair so that she could see. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with fluming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like the twins' in front of him- and they had an _owl_.

Arrow started following them. Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after Arrow. They stopped and so did the twins, just near enough for Arrow to hear what they were saying, which was unusually far away.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you first."

What looked to Arrow like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Arrow kept her eyes open, just like a cat would, but as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of the twins and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, he is," said the boy pointing to his twin.

"Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?" said the other twin.

"Sorry, George." said the woman.

The boy came and stood in front of the barrier and said to his mother, "Only joking, I am Fred," and he was off with his twin behind him. One second they were both there and the next they were gone. But _how_?

There was nothing else to do.

"Excuse me," Arrow said, walking toward the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said. Harry stepped up next to his sister. She looked back and forth between the two twins. "Are you two twins?" she asked smiling.

The twins nodded.

"First time at Hogwarts?"

The twins nodded again.

"It's Ron's first time too," she pointed to what looked to be the youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangly, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"The thing is-" said Harry, "the thing is, we don't know how to-"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and the twins nodded. "Not to worry," she said. "All you've got to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared or you'll crash into it. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron. Both of you."

"Er- okay," said Harry.

He pushed his trolley around, looked over his shoulder at Arrow, and looked back at the barrier. It looked very solid.

He started to walk toward the barrier, he started to run. He was going to crash. But then he vanished.

Arrow blinked.

"Okay, you next dear," said the woman to Arrow.

Arrow pushed her trolley in front of the barrier.

"Good luck," said the little girl. Arrow looked at her, smiling grimly, running a hand through her hair.

"Thanks," Arrow said, "I just might need it."

She took a deep breath and started to walk toward the barrier. When she was a foot away she closed her eyes waiting for her to run into the barrier and the sound of a guard yelling at her…. But it didn't come.

She opened her eyes and gasped.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. She looked at her brother beside her. A sign over head said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Behind them a wrought-iron archway stood where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-quarters on it. They had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry and Arrow pushed their carts off down the platform in search of seats. They passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, _Neville_," they heard the old woman sigh.

Arrow was having a hard time controlling her thoughts. She kept hearing conversations she shouldn't be able to hear. Like her ears were satellite dishes picking up radio stations across the country. She was also able to see things that she shouldn't be able to see. Like those cracks in the brick wall behind a girl with blond pigtails. She saw a boy with dreadlocks, surrounded by a small crowed.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of the box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside pocked out a long hairy leg.

"Giant tarantula," Arrow whispered. She shook her head. How could she have known that?

The twins pressed on. Finally they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. They put Hedwig and Stargazer inside first and then they started to shove and heave Harry's trunk toward the train door.

"Here," said Arrow, "I'll go inside and pull while you push."

"Good idea," said Harry.

But no matter how hard they tried they couldn't get the trunk up the train's steps.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins they had followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

"Thanks," said Arrow, running a hand through her hair, smiling gratefully.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the red headed twins' help, Harry and Arrow's trunks were finally tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks, again," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" one of the twins said suddenly, pointing at Harry's lighting scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you-?"

"He_ is_," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"_Harry Potter_," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean yes, I am."

Arrow started laughing her light, watery laugh.

"That means you have to be-" said one twin turning to Arrow.

"Arrow Potter," said the other in what sounded to Arrow an awed voice.

"The one and only," said Arrow still smiling.

The two boys gawked at the twins, eyes mainly on Arrow. To Harry's relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom."

With a last look at the twins, the red headed twins hopped off the train. Arrow sat down next to the window, Harry sat next to her and together, half hidden, they watched the red-haired family on the platform and heard what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"_Mom_-geroff." He wiggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said the mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and the twins saw a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter_ P_ on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front; the prefects have got two compartments to themselves-"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once-"

"Or twice-"

"A minute-"

"All summer-"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

Arrow gave a silent little laugh.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a _prefect_," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term- send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two- this year, behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've- you've blown up a toilet or-"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, mom."

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

The twins leaned back quickly so they couldn't see them looking.

"You know those black-haired kids who were near us in the station? Know who they are?"

"Who?"

"_The Potter Twins_!"

The twins heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see them, Mom, oh please."

"You've already seen them Ginny, and the poor children aren't something you goggle at in a zoo. Are they really, Fred? How do you know?"  
"Asked them. Saw his scar. It's really there- like lightning."

"We didn't see either of hers though," said the other twin.

"Poor _dears_- no wonder they were alone, I wandered. They were ever so polite when they asked how to get on the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think one of them remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask them, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though they need reminding of that on their first day at school."

"All right, all right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"_George_!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. The twins saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered to much speed, than she fell back and waved.

Harry and Arrow watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He wasn't sure what he was going to – but it had to be better then what he was leaving behind. Then he caught sight of the look on Arrow's face, his excitement turned to worry. Her eyes were filled with such sadness he felt his neck hair bristle. Even her smooth, high cheek bones seemed to be filled with sadness. He gave her a questioning look. She shook her head, eyes closed, and looked out of the window.

"I guess I just miss ours," she whispered.

Harry didn't have to ask to know what she was talking about.

Their mother.

"I know I never knew her but I… I still can't help not to think about what life would be like if they were still here."

"Same here," said Harry.

"I mean I love Aunt Civet and Uncle Walter and Rachelle but……" she trailed off, shaking her head slightly.

Just then the compartment door slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite the twins. "Everywhere else is full."

The twins shook their heads and the boy sat down. He glanced at the twins and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Arrow saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The red-headed twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train- Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

Arrow bit her lip

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Arrow, Harry," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Harry, Arrow and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really the Potter Twins?" Ron blurted out.

The twins nodded.

"Oh- well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And you two really got- you know…"

"What?" chorused the twins.

"The scar," Ron whispered.

"Oh," said Harry and he lifted his bangs to show the lighting scar. Arrow lifted and turned her head to the left to show the scar on her neck.

"Wicked," said Ron. He looked at Arrow, "And do you really have the symbol?"

Arrow ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip. She sighed and opened her right hand. The sickle moon and eight pointed star were back to normal, her normal skin color with the outline of the two a darker color almost like dark caramel.

"When did it go back to normal?" Harry asked her.

Arrow shook her head with a shrug. "Sometime the night after we got our stuff I think."

Ron sat and stared at the symbol for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him and his sister.

"Er- I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"I bet you must know a lot about magic already." said Arrow.

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you two went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible," Harry said.

"Not all of them are though," said Arrow. "The family I'm with are really nice."

"Our aunt, uncle, and cousin are though," said Harry. "Wish I had three wizard brothers," said Harry.

Arrow through him a very dirty look.

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat.

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His names Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, and I got Scabbers."

Arrow stared at Scabbers, chewing her bottom lip. She ran a hand trough her hair.

"Um… we may have a _small_ problem," she said.

Ron looked at her, "Why?"

Arrow got up, went to the carrier and took out a black ball of fur the size of a ball of yarn. She tickled the ball of fur and a tiny head popped up, blinking fiery eyes sleepily, around these eyes were to perfect silver stars.

"This is Stargazer," said Arrow, stroking the kittens head.

"She's gotten her color," said Harry.

The kitten stood up and stretched. Harry saw a silver sickle moon on the kitten's right side when she turned around. Suddenly the kitten's fire colored eyes moved to Scabbers. The kitten cocked her head from side to side ears forward, pointing towards the rat, than looked up at Arrow. Arrow nodded and the kitten bounded to the opposite seat next to Ron, who made to pick up Scabbers from his lap and away from the kitten, but Arrow stopped him with flashing eyes. Stargazer took a few tentative steps toward the rat, head cocked, ears pricked. When she was an inch from Scabbers the kitten looked at Arrow. It looked as though she was asking for permission. Arrow nodded again and the kitten stretched her neck to sniff Scabbers. After a few minutes Stargazer bounded back onto Arrow's lap, lay down and started purring.

"Good girl," whispered Arrow, stroking her kitten's soft, shinning black fur.

The compartment door slid open again. A boy no taller than the twins stood there. He had black hair that was just long enough to fall in his face, hiding his dark eyes. He was already wearing his black Hogwarts robes.

"Do you mind?" he said. "I need to get away from the lunatics running back and forth."

"Go ahead," said Harry and Arrow. The boy sat down next to Ron.

"I'm Sirius Stevenson," said the boy.

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, holding out a hand to shake Sirius'.

"Arrow Potter," said Arrow, smiling, "and this is my brother, Harry."

Sirius looked at the twins, open mouthed, "Your… you're the Potter Twins?"

Harry and Arrow nodded.

"Wow," said Sirius.

"Everyone seems to know us around here," said Arrow with a wry, half smile.

Sirius gave a short laugh and said, "Yeah, even us Muggle born wizards."

They were all quiet for a while, watching the fields and lanes flick past. Arrow had taken out her drawing pad and started drawing while Stargazer watched from her shoulder.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

"No thanks," said Ron, turning pink and taking out a lumpy package, "I'm all set."

Sirius went out into the corridor.

Harry stood up and looked at Arrow.

"Toss me the bag, Arrow," he said. Arrow picked up her backpack and took out the leather bag the twins kept their money in, and tossed it to Harry.

"Get me something would yeh?" Arrow said turning back to her drawing.

"What do you want?" Harry said.

"Anything with chocolate."

Harry went out into the corridor.

He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that he had a bag full with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry- but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Droodle's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Arrow, Ron, and Sirius stared as Harry brought it all back in the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat between him and Arrow.

"I forgot to tell you not to spend all the money at once, didn't I?" said Arrow.

"Hungry, are you?" said Ron.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ignoring Arrow's comment, Harry tossed her a Chocolate Frog.

"What are these?" Arrow asked no one in particular holding up the Chocolate Frog. "They're not _really_ frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what card it is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" said Harry, Arrow and Sirius together.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know- Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect- famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Arrow unwrapped the Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustached. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry and Arrow together.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa- thanks-"

Arrow turned the card over and read, with Harry reading over her shoulder:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times,

Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard

Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of

dragon 's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas

Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Arrow turned the card back over and saw, to her and Harry's astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!" the twins yelled.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I got Morgana again and I've got about six of her…do one of you want it? You can start collecting."

Sirius said that he wasn't one to collect so Harry and Arrow got the card.

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Arrow smiling. "If I eat all these things by myself I'll be sick before we even get there."

"You know," said Sirius, "in the Muggle world, people stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "_Weird!_"

The twins watched as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave them a tiny smile. Arrow, Ron and Sirius were more interested in eating the frogs then looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn't keep his eyes off them. Soon he and Arrow had, not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh-see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, backed bean, strawberry, curry, grass, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper. Arrow got watermelon, coffee, green bean, lemon, orange, honey, and carrot.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round faced boy Harry and Arrow had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him…"

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might be dead and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway-"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er- all right."

He cleared his throat.

_"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well' it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard- I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all of this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron and Sirius, and was relieved to see by their stunned faces that they hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Sirius Stevenson," said Sirius.

"Arrow Potter," said Arrow, "and this is my brother, Harry." She jerked her head at Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about both of you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History, The rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and-"

"_Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_," said Arrow. Everyone looked at her. "What?"

"You knew?" said Harry.

Arrow nodded.

"What else did you think I was doing with the extra books I bought? Giving them to Holly?"

"You _knew _and you didn't tell me?" said Harry.

"_I did tell you!_"

"Anyway," said Hermione slowly. "Do any of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…. Anyway, we'd better look for Neville's toad. You'd better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron.

Thud- "Ow!" Arrow kicked Ron in the shin.

Arrow got up and took her robes out of her trunk.

"I don't know about you three but I'm taking up on what Hermione said. Be right back." Arrow left the compartment and no more than a minute later she was back wearing her Hogwarts robes.

"That was fast," said Harry.

Arrow sat down and started drawing.

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked Ron.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling in on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw _would_ be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the House You-Know-Who was in, wasn't it?" said Arrow.

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Sirius, obviously trying to change the subject.

"What do your brothers do now they've left school?" Harry asked.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you three hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles- someone tried to rob a high security vault."

"What!" the twins yelled together.

"What happened to them?" said Sirius.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd."

Harry suddenly heard a voice in his head, _It could have been a Dark wizard or it could be the ring master himself._ The voice sounded like Arrow but when Harry looked at his sister she was looking out of the window biting her lip. And Ron and Sirius didn't seem to have heard the voice.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked pulling Harry from his thoughts.

"Um- we don't know any," Arrow said.

"Neither do I," said Sirius.

"What!" yelled Ron. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world-" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking them through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered, and Harry and Arrow recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at the twins with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"So it's true," he said. "The Potter Twins have come to Hogwarts."

Arrow stared right into the boy's cold eyes, not blinking. Harry was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron and Sirius gave slight coughs. Draco Malfoy looked at them.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children then they can afford." He looked at Sirius. "And you must be some filthy Mudblood."

Ron jumped to his feet while Arrow stood up very slowly, her eyes were flashing and narrowed. She looked ready to pounce on Malfoy and rip him to shreds.

"What did you call him," Arrow said slowly in a growl.

Draco Malfoy turned back to face Arrow and Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter." Harry noticed that he seemed to be looking at Arrow and not at both of them. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but he was still looking at Arrow. Harry didn't take it.

"I think we can tell the wrong sort for ourselves, thank you," Arrow growled, eyes still flashing.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with Mudbloods and riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Harry and Sirius stood up next to Arrow and Ron.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than any of them.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron- Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched him, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle- Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling. Next second, Stargazer was flying through the air toward Crabbe, fluffed up, hissing and spitting. Stargazer landed right on Crabbe's face, claws sunk deep into to the skin. When Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window and Stargazer fell to the floor, landing on all fours, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets or another kitten would come flying at them, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.

"What _has_ been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor, Arrow picking up a still fluffed up Stargazer and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to the other three. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No- I don't believe it- he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

"Have you two met Malfoy before?" said Sirius.

Arrow explained about the twins run in with Malfoy in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says the Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Stargazer and Scabbers were the ones fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right- I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as she left.

Smack- "Ow!" Arrow hit him over the head.

"What was that for?" said Ron.

"Why do you have to be hard on her like that?" said Arrow, eyes flashing. "You haven't even known her for one day?"

Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

Arrow and Sirius stood in the corridor talking about what Arrow had read about Hogwarts while Harry and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron's were a bit short for him; you could see his sneakers underneath them.

"What was it Malfoy called me?" Sirius asked once he and Arrow were back in the compartment.

Arrow's eyes narrowed and started flashing. There seemed to be a growling sound coming from her.

"It's a nasty name for Muggle born," said Ron.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and Ron looked a little pale under his freckles. Sirius was a little pale also and Arrow kept running a hand threw her hair, biting her lip. Harry and Ron crammed the rest of the sweets into their pockets, Arrow put Stargazer back in her carrier. Sirius opened the compartment door and they all joined the crowed thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Arrow felt Harry shiver next to her in the cool night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and the twins heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry, Arrow?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, except for Arrow who seemed to be having no trouble, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Arrow knew that there had to be thick trees there. Arrow could have sworn that she saw eyes coming and going through the gloom but when she looked again, nothing was there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop the edge of a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No mare'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Arrow, Ron and Sirius got into one boat.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It toward over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried down a long, dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right under the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front doors.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	9. The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Arrow could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right- the rest of the school must already be here- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Sirius groaned. Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school?

"That's exactly what we wanted to hear Ron," said Arrow sarcastically, rolling her eyes and running a hand through her hair.

Harry looked around and saw that everyone looked just as terrified as he felt. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wandering which one she'd need. Harry tried not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. Arrow was biting her lip, with a thoughtful expression on her face. Harry kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot into the air- several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?" Arrow began.

She gasped, so did Harry and several others around them. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Fat Friar. "My old house you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind Arrow, who was behind Sirius, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Arrow had read about the Great Hall but the book wasn't even close to how strange and splendid it was. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Arrow looked up and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She had read that the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside, but it was hard to believe that the Great Hall didn't just open to the heavens.

Arrow looked back at Professor McGonagall who was silently placing a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Civet would never let it in the house without a good dusting first.

Seeing that the entire hall was staring at the hat, she did to. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth- and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart:_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Arrow could see the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to the Ravenclaws to, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; amazingly above all the noise Arrow could hear Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was her imagination, after all she had heard about Slytherin, but Arrow thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

Harry was starting to feel sick now. He could remember being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he wasn't good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. Arrow gave him a comforting smile over her shoulder

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy- haired boy in front of Sirius sat on the stool for a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned and Arrow gave him a nasty look around Harry.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When the hat finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morgan."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with him-self.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon"…, "Nott"…,"Parkinson"…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then-

"Potter, Arrow!"

As Arrow stepped forward, head held high, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Did she say_ Potter_?"

"_The_ Arrow Potter?"

"Wow…"

The last thing Arrow saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her and Harry giving her a weak, encouraging smile. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Lots of courage, lots of courage. Not afraid to speak your mind I see. There's talent, oh yes there's talent. A very nice mind as well. And a good, golden heart. Now that's something I haven't seen for some time. But where to put you?"

Arrow took a deep breath and thought, _My brother and I have been separated for too long. I'm willing to go anywhere he goes to be with him. But not Slytherin, please. Anywhere but Slytherin. _

"Not Slytherin eh? But you would do very well in Slytherin…but . . . ah," said the small voice, "a girl who thinks of others before herself. I know just where a girl with a heart like yours belongs… We could use more like you in this school, GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall. Arrow was beaming while she took of the hat and walked to the Gryffindor table, head held high. She was getting the loudest cheer yet. The Weasley twins were yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Arrow even thought she heard a couple of whistles, which didn't seem to come from the Gryffindor table.

Then the whole hall went quiet again as Professor McGonagall called, "Potter, Harry!"  
Whispers followed Harry's name as well. The last thing he saw was Arrow beaming at him. Next thing he knew he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that- no? Well, if you're sure- better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took of the hat and walked toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved that the hat hadn't put him in Slytherin and that he was with his sister, he hardly noticed that he was getting a cheer almost as loud as Arrow's. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins started up again with yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat next to Arrow, opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him and Arrow sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card Arrow had gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shown as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

"Stevenson, Sirius!"

Sirius walked up toward the stool, just as white as the ghosts but holding his head high.

Arrow crossed her fingers under the table, and a minute later-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Arrow cheered the loudest as Sirius came and sat down on Arrow's other side.

Now there were only four people left to be sorted.

"Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined the twins at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was a pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Sirius.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago. Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could please him more then to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he- a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open and Arrow gasped. The dishes in front of them were now piled with food. Neither had seen so many things they liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, roast turkey, bacon and steak, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, corn on the cob, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys never exactly starved Harry, but he had been allowed to eat as much as he wanted. Dudley had always taken everything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. The twins took a bit of all most everything, and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you-?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you- your Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_ you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly, but Hermione Granger interrupted.

"_Nearly_ Headless? How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and it fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at their stunned faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry and Arrow looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, the twins were pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked the sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding….

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, and Arrow scooped out some chocolate ice cream, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dads a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force some magic out of me- he pushed me off the edge of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned- but nothing happened till I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons("I _do_ hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing-").

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes- and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"Ow!" Arrow rubbed the scar on her neck.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"Nothing," the twins answered.

Harry and Arrow exchanged looks. The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher- a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all or, for that matter, Arrow. Together they looked up at the High Table.

"Who's that talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked Percy after a few seconds.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to- everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Together, Harry and Arrow watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at either of them again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all feed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who doesn't wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed. Arrow drove her elbow deep into his side.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy, rubbing his sore ribs.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Arrow noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as though he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arrow looking around her like a child in her first candy shop.

They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves- show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Beron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barched Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it- Arrow hopped lightly in while Neville needed a leg up- and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through the other. At the top of a spiral staircase- they were obviously in one of the towers- they found their beds at last: six four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry and Sirius through the hangings. "Get_ off_ Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."

Harry was going to ask Ron and Sirius if they'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he and his sister must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was their destiny. Harry told the turban that he and Arrow didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it- then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold- there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

He rolled over and fell asleep again. He didn't know that he and his sister had just had the exact same dream, waking up at the exact same time, but when they woke the next day; neither twin could remember the dream at all.


	10. Potions Master

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Look at her hair."

"Did you see their faces?"

"Did you see his scar?"  
Whispers followed the twins from the moment they left their dormitories the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at them, or double back in the corridors to see them, staring. Even Arrow's idea of walking without each other didn't work. Harry wished it had, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes, which was still difficult to do even with Arrow's directions she had given him.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that lead somewhere different on Fridays; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember were anything was, because it all seemed to move a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure that the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that were possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filtch. Harry and Ron had managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Arrow and Sirius had left breakfast earlier than them and were probably already in class when Filtch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them up in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. All the students hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. To the dismay of any who saw, whenever Mrs. Norris saw Arrow walking down a hallway, she would run over rubbing up against her legs and Arrow would pause and scratch the cat behind the ears, smiling.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as both Harry and Sirius quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets (Arrow had already memorized almost all of this from when she would watch the stars on Moonstone Lane). Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbolgy, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class (as Arrow had guessed the day they got their schedules) was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Bins droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took roll, and when he got to the twins' names he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Arrow and Hermione Granger had made any difference to their matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gave Arrow and Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would come back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him and Arrow, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once (with a little help from Arrow's map).

"What've we got today?" Sirius asked Harry, Arrow and Ron.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Arrow answered.

"Snape's head of Slytherin House," said Ron. "They say he always favors them- we'll be able to see if that's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him and Arrow a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry and Arrow anything so far. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. Harry read, Arrow reading over his shoulder, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry and Arrow,

I know you two get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled _Yes, please, see you later _on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.

It was lucky that Harry and Arrow had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing to happen to either of them so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him and his sister. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike the twins- he _hated_ them, especially Harry. Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at the twins' names.

"Ah, yes." He said softly, "Harry and Arrow Potter. Our new – _celebrities_."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barley more than a whisper, but they caught every word- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech, Harry and Arrow exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Sirius narrowed his eyes at Snape. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly.

Arrow tipped her head to one side, a look of innocence on her face.

"Mr. Potter," said Snape, glaring at Arrow.

_Well sorrry_ said a voice in Harry's head, he tried not to laugh.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" said Snape.

_Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? _Harry glanced at Ron and Sirius, who both looked as stumped as he was; Hermione Granger's hand shot into the air. Arrow raised her hand slowly, eyes halfway shut, flashing.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lip curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione and Arrow's hands.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, Arrow didn't move, eyes still flashing. Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He_ had_ looked through his books at the Dursley's, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione and Arrow's hands.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. Arrow didn't move.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Arrow and Hermione do, though, why don't you ask one of them?"

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus' eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, wasn't pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. He then glared at Arrow who returned the look. "Let's see if the other twin can answer." Everyone turned to look at Arrow.

Arrow laid her hand back on the table slowly.

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong it is known as the Draught of Living Death." Arrow said into the silence. "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, that was a trick question for they are the same plant also known as aconite."

Everyone gaped at Arrow. Hermione looked sad about not answering the questions. Snape looked sour.

"Well?" Snape said, still glaring at Arrow. "Why aren't you all copying this down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.

Snape then put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acrid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You- Potter- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? Two points from Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

A sudden growling sound filled the dungeon. The sound seemed to be coming from every direction which made it very threatening, as though it came from a creature too big to be allowed in the universe. Then, as suddenly as the sound began, it stopped. Harry turned to ask Arrow if she might know what the sound might have been. But when he saw the look on Arrow's face he stopped. For the first time, Harry could see uncertainty in his sister's eyes. She was running hand after hand through her hair and she was biting her lip so hard he could see blood.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeons an hour later, Harry took Arrow aside and asked her why she had looked so weird after the sound. Arrow looked into his eyes; her eyes.

"Harry, I think that sound was… was coming from me."

"Cheer up you two," said Ron when him and Sirius caught up to them, miss understanding the look on the twins' faces. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George."

"Can we come with you and meet Hagrid?" asked Sirius, looking hard at Arrow as if trying to read what was going on in her head.

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "_Back_, Fang- _back_."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "_Back_ Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yourselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded strait at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Sirius and Ron," Arrow told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Hello there. Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke your teeth, but Harry, Arrow, Ron, and Sirius pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Arrow's knee with her petting him, drooling all over her robes.

They were all delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her- Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry and Arrow not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really _hate_ both of us," said Harry.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet the twins' eyes when he said that. Arrow must have thought the same thing because she said under her breath, "You know why, I bet."  
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot- great with animals."

Arrow thought for sure that Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose but didn't push it. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Arrow picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_:

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts

on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark

wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been

taken . The vault that was searched had in fact been

emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep

your noses out of it if you know what's good for you,"

said a Gringotts spokes goblin this afternoon.

Arrow remembered Ron telling her, Harry and Sirius on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!" Harry yelled in her ear making her jump, "that Gringotts break- in happened on our birthday! It must've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet either of the twins' eyes this time. He grunted and offered Harry another rock cake. Arrow read the story again. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day._ Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Arrow and Harry locked eyes, both thinking the same question. Had that grubby little package been what the thieves were looking for?

As Harry, Arrow, Ron and Sirius walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell the twins?

Harry and Arrow exchanged looks and that one look said a lot.


	11. If your a true HP fan please read!

Oh my god I cant believe ive actually been gone this long XO.

So sorry to all who have been waiting on me (blame school).

Before I continue on with the story of Harry and Arrow Potter I have a….question for all you Harry Potter fanatics.

I had an idea about another possible….version for this story.

I want to know which version you like better.

Version one of course is the one I have been working on for the last 6 years and you all have been reading, where the twins are both known and are separated for their protection by Dumbledore, Harry going to live with the Dursleys and Arrow with the Mecnares.

Version two I actually like better though I hate the thought of typing it all out all over again.

In this version Lilly Potter gets the idea that it would be very dangerous for the family (specially for the Twins) for the world to know that both of them exist. Following her 'woman's intuition' Lilly and James hide the fact that they had twins. Even their best friends don't know i.e. Sirius, Remus, and Petigrue. Even Dumbledore wasn't told. All they know is that the family has grown. The Potters decide that since Arrow had been blessed by Orion (yes that still happens in this version) that she should be the one to be kept a secret. On another twinge of intuition from Lilly, Sirius is told about the existence of Arrow and promises to keep Arrow a secret. The Potters were on the verge of telling Remus about Arrow when Voldemort and his creature attach.

Hagrid is sent for Harry by Dumbledore. Hagrid is quickly joined by Sirius on his giant bike. Hagrid gets Harry, Sirius gives Hagrid his bike, yada yada. Once Hagrid leaves Sirius franticly starts looking for Arrow in the wreckage of the house. He finds her under a roof beam that had fallen, one end propped up by an overturned crib, wide eyed but silent, looking much as her mother likely did at age 1. Dark red hair, bright green eyes.

Sirius is torn between revenge against Petigrue and watching over Arrow, him now being the only one knowing she exists. Arrow made up his mind by looking around and calling for her mother. For 4 years the two were on the run together and Arrow Potter became Arrow Black.

The Ministry catches Sirius however (set on by Dumbledore of course who as you all know thought Sirius had been the secret keeper). Everyones surprised as hell about Arrow who Sirius had disguised by changing her hair color to black and her eyes to an almost black green.

Sirius is thrown in Azcaban and Arrow is put into a wizarding foster home. When she goes to Hogwarts she is sorted into Slytherin cuz shes all bitter about Sirius mostly (yes she gets with Draco in the end). And yes she gets caught up in the threes adventures (though not as deep). Shell be a kind of model that Slytherins aren't always bad and shell be 'friends' with people in all the houses. In the third….well I don't want to give it all away. But they don't find out there twins until the forth.

What you all think?

If I get enough messages/reviews telling me to post this version I will cuz like I said I actually really like this version.


	12. The Midnight Duel

Harry never believed he would meet someone he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Figures," Arrow growled, glaring at the notice as if to set on fire.

"Just what I wanted," said Harry darkly. "To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron.

"Besides," said Sirius, "I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Arrow smiled. Sirius gave her a critical look.

"What?" Sirius said slowly.

"That reminded me of an old saying," Arrow said, shrugging.

"What's that?" asked Ron.

"Oh he can talk the talk," Arrow swung her head from side to side, "but can he walk the walk?" she gave a few hopping steps. The others laughed.

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters (at least all the ones when Arrow was in ear shot). He wasn't the only one though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the country side on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Arrow felt she'd had a good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book- not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville was hanging onto her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang onto his broomstick later, but everybody else was pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course, though Arrow got a weekly check in letter from Civet and an update on the rapidly growing Holly. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red- oh…" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "…you've forgotten something…"

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him while Arrow pulled Harry and Ron back into their seats with a hard jerk.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Arrow, Ron, Sirius, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Arrow had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew to high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Arrow glanced down at her broom. It was old and gray, and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once. So did Arrow's beside him, but they were the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps broom's, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Arrow; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Sirius' came up after a while and Ron's broom came up and hit him on the nose. Harry Arrow, and Sirius laughed.

"Shut up, all of you," Ron said to the others.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry, Arrow, Ron, and Sirius were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now , when I blow my whistle, you will kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle- twelve feet- twenty feet. Arrow saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slide sideways off the broom and-

WHAM- a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Arrow heard her mutter. "Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry and Arrow stepping forward as one. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it for Longbottom to find- how about-" Malfoy was mounting his broomstick, "Up a tree?"

He flew about twenty feet.

"What, Twins?" he said. "A bit out of your reach?"

Arrow narrowed her eyes and her and Harry grabbed their brooms.

"_No!_" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble."

Arrow looked at Hermione, grinning, a twinkle in her eye.

"Relax Hermione you worry wart," she looked at Harry. "You head'em high-"

"And you head'em low," Harry finished and off they went.

Air caught their robes and Arrow's hair went flying back like a silk banner.

Arrow stopped about six feet below Malfoy and started circling, while Harry pulled his broomstick up to take it up past her to be level with Malfoy. Arrow leaned forward and left very slightly so that she did a few spins. She heard the screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop and yell from Ron and Sirius. Arrow looked up at her brother concentrating on one thought.

As he turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy, Harry heard that same voice on the train in his head. _Just get him to hold it out beside him_.

_Okay_, Harry thought.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry called out loud, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about- face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. He held the glass ball out to his side.

"Come and get it!" he shouted.

Arrow saw Malfoy hold out the glass ball and immediately shot upward toward it.

"Thanks!" she yelled as she grabbed the ball from Malfoy's hand making a sharp turn to come hover next to her brother. Malfoy glared at the twins. Arrow held the ball in front of her.

"Come and get it if you want it!" she taunted.

Malfoy shot toward the twins who rolled easily out of the way. Malfoy then started chasing a laughing Arrow who did very complicated twist, turns, and spins to great applause, cheering, and screaming from the people watching below. Once she did a back flip right over Malfoy so that she was chasing him.

"Hey Harry!" Arrow called suddenly.

"Yeh?" Harry answered.

Arrow stopped suddenly so that Malfoy speed on past.

"Go long!" she shouted and threw the glass ball to him.

It was a good pitch but it went too far and the glass ball started falling to the ground behind him.

"Sorry!" yelled Arrow.

Harry held up his hand (Malfoy had streaked to the ground as soon as Arrow had thrown the ball) and leaned forward, pointing his broom handle down- next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching- he stretched out his hand- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. Arrow softly landed on her feet next to him.

"You need to work on your landings," Arrow said, smiling, holding out a hand to help him up.

"Very funny Arrow," said Harry, grinning, taking her hand.

"HARRY AND ARROW POTTER!"

Harry's heart sank faster than he had just dived. Arrow gulped her eyes wide. Professor McGonagall was running toward them.

"_Never_- in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "-how _dare_ you- might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't their fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil-"

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, Potter, follow me, now."

Arrow followed Professor McGonagall immediately, head held high. Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he numbly followed Arrow and Professor McGonagall. They were going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something in his and Arrow's defense, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at them: Harry had to jog to keep up with her and Arrow. Now they'd done it. They hadn't even lasted two weeks. They'd be packing their bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep?

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to either of the twins. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with the twins behind her. Maybe she was taking them to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps they could be Hagrid's assistants. Harry's stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron, Sirius, and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bags. Maybe he could like with Arrow and the Mecnares.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a class room. She opened the door and pocked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I barrow Wood for a moment?"

_Wood?_ Thought Harry, bewildered: was Wood a cane she was going to use on him and Arrow?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you three," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood kept staring at Arrow who didn't seem to notice.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the three of them.

"Potters, this is Oliver Wood. Wood- I've found you a Seeker _and_ a Chaser."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The two are naturals. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on broomsticks, Potters?"

Arrow and Harry nodded silently. Neither had a clue what was going on, but they didn't seem to be being expelled.

"The girl snatched that thing in his hand from another boy, barely ruffling his hair. And he caught it after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood.

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potters?" he said excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, walking around Harry, staring at him. He stopped and looked at Arrow. "She's a bit small for a Chaser but that could come in handy. We'll have to get some decent brooms, Professor- Nimbus Two Thousands or Cleansweep Sevens, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. _Flattened_ in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks…."

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry and Arrow.

"I want to hear that you two are training hard, Potters, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud of you both," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

"Your_ joking_."

It was dinner time. Harry and Arrow had just finished telling Ron and Sirius what had happened when they'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Sirius was staring at the twins and Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd completely forgotten it.

"_Seeker_ and _Chaser_?" Ron said. "But first years _never_- you two must be the youngest house players in about-"

"Afentry," Harry mumbled through a mouth full of pie.

"A century," Arrow said. "Wood told us."

"We start training next week," Harry said, swallowing.

"But don't tell anyone," Arrow said.

"Wood wants to keep it a secret." Harry finished."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry and Arrow, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too- Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You two must be good, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potters? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take either of you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy.

Arrow gave a grate humorless laugh and said, "Yea because the last time you did went _so_ well."

Harry, Ron, and Sirius laughed.

Malfoy scowled at her. Then turned back to Harry, "Tonight, if you want. Wizards duel. Wands only- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizards duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Harry, Arrow, and Sirius stared at Ron.

"What?" Ron asked looking at the others in surprise.

"What's a wizard's duel?" asked Sirius.

"And what do you mean, you're my second?" Harry said.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Arrow was staring at Ron eyes wide, face slightly white. "But people only die in proper duels," Ron added hastily, "you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you know enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me."

The four of them looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-"

"Bet you could. OW!" Arrow kicked Ron under the table.

"- and you _mustn't_ go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

As Hermione Granger left Arrow turned flashing green eyes on Harry and Ron who shrunk back.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed at them. "She's actually really nice _and_ she happens to come in handy when you need help on your homework."

"Yeah, she looks like a real cup of sunshine," said Ron sarcastically. "OW!" Arrow kicked him again.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect way to end the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Neville's snores. All afternoon Arrow and Sirius tried to teach Harry and Ron a few jinxes Arrow had found in the library and how to block some curses. There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mr. Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness- this was his big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go."  
They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room.

"Good luck you two," came Sirius' whispered voice through the darkness.

"Thanks," Harry and Ron whispered back.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"No point in you getting into trouble to if were caught which were bound to be."

"Alright," came the quiet reply.

Harry and Ron climbed down the spiral staircase into the Gryffindor common room.

"Finally," whispered a voice behind them. Harry and Ron spun on the spot to find Arrow wearing jeans a t-shirt with a jacket and Stargazer draped over her shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" said Harry even though he already knew the answer.

"What? You think I'd stay in here like a good little girl and let you have all the fun?" Arrow said, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised. "Besides I'm your sister. I'm with you no matter what gets thrown at us."

Harry smiled, "Thanks, Arrow."

"No problem. Now we better get a moving if we want to get there on time."

They had almost reached the portrait hole when Arrow stopped them, held a finger up to her lips to signal them to be quiet and pointed to the chair nearest them. A voice spoke from the chair Arrow had pointed at, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flicked on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"_You!_" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy- he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Harry couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Harry," Arrow whispered.

There was something in her voice that made Harry look up at her.

"You know that this_ could_ be a trap, don't you?"

Harry looked at her then said bluntly, "Come on," and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Arrow through the portrait hole, who just muttered something that sounded like "Don't say I didn't tell you so," hissing at the three of them like an angry goose.

"Don't you _care_ about Gryffindor, do you _only_ care about yourselves, _I_ don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are_ not_."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here waiting for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've some nerve-" said Ron loudly.

"Shut up both of you!" Arrow growled.

"You wanta get us caught?" Harry said sharply.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had just raised his wand when they heard someone speak- and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Ron's bathrobe had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others, and, with Arrow beside him, the twins lead the other two down a long gallery full of suites of armor. They could hear Filch getting closer. Suddenly there was a yowl behind them. They spun around to see Mrs. Norris' large yellow eyes staring at them. Stargazer hissed and spat.

Ron turned to Arrow, "Can't you shut that thing up?"

"This is a rule thing Ron," Arrow said, shaking her head. "There's nothing we can do except…."

"What?" said Harry, Ron, and Hermione in union.

"Run!" Arrow whispered. And run they did. The four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see if Filch was following- they swung around the door post and ran down one corridor then another, Arrow in the lead, knowing that there was a secret passageway up ahead that would take them close to their Charms classroom which was miles away from the trophy room. They ripped through the tapestry hiding the passageway and they hurtled down it coming out at last by the Charms classroom.

"I think we lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall, wiping his forehead.

"I told you it was a trap," said Arrow, breathing heavily.

"How-can-you-not-be-out-of-breath?" Hermione gasped at Arrow, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Rachelle makes sure I get my daily exercise," Arrow answered calmly.

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower, pronto," said Ron.

The twins looked at each other and nodded.

"Let's go," they said together.

It wasn't to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves said in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves- this was a mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door- and it was locked.

"This is it!" Rom moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch was running as fast as he could toward Peeves' shouts.

"Oh move over," Hermione snapped. She took out her wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "_Alohomora!_"

The lock clicked and the door swung open- they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.'"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now _where did they go_?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right-_ please_."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"We should be safe," Ron said. 'This door is locked."

"It _was_ locked," said Hermione.

"And for good reason," Arrow breathed, Stargazer growling from her shoulder. Arrow had gone very white and her eyes were wide.

The others turned around to see what Arrow was looking at, then, they wished they hadn't.

They weren't in a room, as Harry had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

Lying in the center of the corridor was a monstrous dog. A dog with three heads. A dog that was starting to wake up. It stood up and shook itself, yawned showing yellowish fangs. It took up the whole space between floor and ceiling, wall and wall.

It was standing very still, all six eyes staring at them, and Arrow knew that the only reason they weren't dead yet was that their sudden appearance during its nap had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob- between Filch and death, head take Filch.

They fell backward- Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them elsewhere, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared- all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked.

"Never mind that now- pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed into the nearest armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything, until-

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron, faintly. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.

"You don't use your eyes, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor, you dimwits," Arrow snapped. She leaned over and growled, "It was standing on a trap door. It's guarding something."

Hermione stood up suddenly, glaring at Ron and Harry.

"Now if you don't mind I'm going to bed either of you come up with another clever idea to get us all killed. Or worse- expelled," and she went through the door to the girls dormitory.

"She really needs to sort out her priorities," said Ron.

Arrow rolled her eyes, shook her head, smiling and followed Hermione through the door.

Arrow and Hermione had given Harry something to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something…. What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you had to hide- except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though the twins had found out where that grubby little package from vault seven hundred thirteen had gone.


End file.
